^^^^^^^^^ 


A  STUDENT'S  HISTORY  OF 
NGL  5TERATURE 


!MO 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


STUDENT'S  HISTORY 

OF 

ENGLISH  LITERATURE 


BY 


WILLIAM   EDWARD   SIMONDS 

(Ph.  D.,  Strassbukg) 

PROFESSOR   OF   ENGLISH    LITERATURE   IN 
KNOX  COLLEGE 


... 

*  '       4  1    O 


■ 


BOSTON,    NEW   YORK,    AND   CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON,   MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,    7902, 
BY    WILLIAM    EDWARD    SIMONDE, 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


PREFACE 

The  problems  involved  in  the  preparation  of  a  book 
like  this  are  many  ;  their  solution  is  often  a  matter  of 
experiment.  In  attempting  A  Student's  History  of 
English  Literature,  the  writer  makes  small  claim  to 
originality  in  the  method  of  his  compilation.  The  ad- 
mirable text-books  of  Pancoast,  of  Moody  and  Lovett, 
of  Halleck,  and  of  Johnson,  as  well  as  the  older  stand- 
ard histories,  have  suggested  many  points  of  practical 
utility  ;  and  the  writer  hastens  to  acknowledge  his  in- 
debtedness to  his  predecessors. 

In  the  interest  of  clearness  the  author  has  adopted 
the  simplest  possible  division  of  his  subject  —  that  ac- 
cording to  centuries  ;  and  has  relied  upon  the  subdivi- 
sions of  his  chapters  to  emphasize  properly  the  impor- 
tant literary  movements  of  each  period.  He  has  assumed 
that  as  many  as  possible  of  the  essential  facts  in  literary 
history  should  be  presented  to  his  readers.  Not  only 
should  the  student  become  acquainted  with  the  principal 
movements  and  epochs  in  our  literary  development  — not 
only  should  he  be  given  the  opportunity  to  gain  the 
comprehensive  view  that  includes  forces  and  influences 
which  initiate  and  modify  them  —  but  he  should  also 
have  before  him  what  may  be  called  the  mechanical  de- 
tails of  the  subject,  —  mere  facts  of  literary  record, 
neither  picturesque  nor  inspiring  in  themselves,  but  in- 
dispensable even  to  an  elementary  knowledge  of  liter- 


iv  PREFACE 

ary  history.  The  writer  has,  therefore,  followed  the 
biographical  method  more  closely  than  some  authors 
who  have  briefly  summarized  their  biographical  studies 
and  enlarged  the  scope  of  their  technical  criticism. 

The  suggestions  for  study  have  been  prepared  in  the 
hope  that  they  will  assist  both  pupil  and  teacher  in  the 
study  of  literature.  In  their  preparation  the  writer  has 
also  kept  in  mind  the  not  impossible  student  out  of 
school  who,  without  professional  assistance  or  direction, 
is  ambitious  to  become  really  acquainted  with  litera- 
ture as  well  as  with  its  history.  In  these  suggestions 
has  been  embodied  such  analysis  and  criticism  as 
seemed  reasonable  in  a  text-book  of  this  grade.  It  is 
probable  that  the  courses  suggested  will  be  found  in 
some  instances  more  extended  than  the  time  allotted 
will  permit ;  of  course  the  teacher  will  be  guided  by 
his  own  discretion  in  their  use.  Will  it  not  be  advan- 
tageous occasionally  to  base  the  exercise  entirely  upon 
these  suggested  studies  without  requiring  in  the  class- 
room a  formal  recitation  of  the  biographical  details 
given  in  the  preliminary  sketch  ?  The  author  will  wel- 
come all  criticism  based  upon  practical  experience  with 
these  notes. 

Much  of  the  material  used  in  sections  dealing  with 
the  romancers  and  novelists  has  been  taken  from  chap- 
ters in  the  author's  Introduction  to  a  Study  of  Eng- 
lish Fiction,  published  by  D.  C.  Heath  and  Company. 
In  the  biographical  sketch  of  Walter  Scott  and  the 
study  suggestions  upon  Ivanhoe,  similar  use  has  been 
made  of  material  included  in  the  school  edition  of  Ivan- 
hoc  published  by  Scott,  Foresman  and  Company.  The 
author  has  drawn  also,  in  the  account  of  De  Quincey, 


PREFACE 


upon  the  biographical  introduction  to  his  edition  of  De 
Quincey's  Revolt  of  the  Tartars,  published  by  Ginn 
and  Company.  For  the  cordial  permission  of  these 
houses  to  use  this  material,  the  writer  desires  to  ex- 
press his  thanks. 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

I.  The  Anglo-Saxon  Period 1 

Britain  and  the  English 2 

Anglo-Saxon  Poetry                                              ,         .         .  S 

Anglo-Saxon  Prose        .......  29 

The  Nation  and  the  Language          .....  35 

II.   The  Anglo-Norman  Period 41 

The  New  Invasion    ........  41 

Development  of  Middle  English  Literature          .         .  43 

The  Age  of  Chaucer 59 

Geoffrey  Chaucer  :  Poet  of  the  Dawn  ....  64 

III.  The  Fifteenth  and  Sixteenth  Centuries   ...  82 

The  Fifteenth  Century  :  The  Renascence    ...  82 

First  Half  of  the  Sixteenth  Century        ....  89 

Representative  Prose  and  Verse  in  the  Elizabethan  Age  98 

Development  of  the  English  Drama     ....  108 

William  Shakespeare  and  his  Successors          .         .         .  1 29 

IV.  The  Seventeenth  Century 170 

The  Last  of  the  Elizabethans  :  Bacon      ....  170 

The  Puritan  Movement :  Milton           ....  179 

Seventeenth  Century  Lyrics 199 

The  Restoration  :  Bunyan,  Dryden       ....  206 

V.   The  Eighteenth  Century 222 

The  Augustan  Age  of  English  Prose  ....  222 

The  Poetry  of  Alexander  Pope        .....  249 

Rise  of  the  English  Novel 265' 

Essayists  of  the  Second  Half 281, 

The  Romantic  Movement  in  English  Poetry         .         .  303 

VI.  The  Nineteenth  Century        .                ....  316 

The  New  Poetry  :  Wordsworth,  Coleridge  .         .         .  316 

The  Romantic  Movement  in  Fiction  :   Scott    .         .         .  333 

The  Revolutionary  Poets  :  Byron,  Shelley  .         .         .  350 

Romanticism  in  English  Prose  :  Lamb,  De  Quincey        .  369 

The  Great  Essayists :   Macaulay,  Carlyle,  Ruskin        .  389 

Maturity  of  the  Novel :  Dickens,  Thackeray,  George  Eliot  412 

The  Victorian  Poets  :  Browning,  Tennyson    .         .         .  431 

Index •  ^65 


k  STUDENT'S  HISTORY  OF  ENG 
LISH  LITERATURE 


CHAPTER   I 

THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

I.  Britain  and  the  English. 

II.  Anglo-Saxon  Poetry. 

III.  Anglo-Saxon  Prose. 

IV.  The  Nation  and  the  Language. 

By  the  term  Literature  is  meant  those  written 
or  printed  compositions  which  preserve  the 
thought  and  experience  ot  a  race  recorded 
in  ai-tistic  form.  The  element  of  beauty  must  be 
present  in  greater  or  less  degree,  and  such  works  must 
be  inspired  by  a  purpose  to  afford  intellectual  pleasure 
to  the  one  who  reads  them  or  hears  them  read.  Books 
written  to  give  information  merely  are  not  usually  in- 
cluded in  this  term ;  text-books,  scientific  treatises, 
chronicles,  reports,  and  similar  compilations  hardly  be- 
long to  literature  ;  but  works  in  which  the  imagina- 
tive power  of  the  writer  is  engaged,  those  which  move 
or  stir  the  feelings  and  appeal  to  the  sense  of  beauty 
which  is  found  in  every  intelligent  mind  —  these  make 
up  the  real  literature  of  a  people.  Such  are  poems 
and  dramas,  prose  works  also,  in  which  these  elements 


2  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

may  find  a  place  ;  works  which  are  distinguished  by 
the  quality  called  style,  and  which  reflect  more  or  less 
of  the  personality  which  gave  them  birth.  Hence  it 
has  happened  frequently  that  books  designed  to  inform 
have  also  partaken  of  these  other  qualities  as  well,  and 
have  found  a  permanent  place  in  the  literature  of  our 
land ;  such,  for  example,  are  the  reviews  of  Macaulay, 
the  political  pamphlets  of  Swift  and  Burke,  the  his- 
tories of  Gibbon  and  Hume,  the  narrative  papers  of 
De  Quincey,  the  essays  of  Ruskin  and  Carlyle. 

The  history  of  our  English  Literature  begins  almost 
coincidently  with  the  arrival  and  settlement  of  large 
companies  of  our  Teutonic  ancestors  in  Britain  about 
450  a.  d. 

I.     BRITAIN    AND   THE   ENGLISH. 

So  far  as  history  records,  the^earliest_  inhabitants  of 
Britain  were  a  Celtic  race,  the  CymrH  These 
and  the  people  were  not  unknown  to  the  Romans  even 
in  very  early  times ;  in  B.  C.  55  the  island 
was  invaded  by  Julius  Caesar,  although  at  that  period 
no  permanent  colony  was  established.  In  the  next  cen- 
tury new  invasions  followed,  and  for  many  years  the 
island  was  a  frequent  battle-ground  for  the  Roman  le- 
gions as  they  advanced  in  their  conquest  of  the  world. 
Gradually  their  victories  in  Britain  carried  civilization 
well  to  the  north,  until  the  Roman  frontier  was  marked 
by  a  great  line  of  defense,  crossing  from  the  Firth  of 
Forth  to  the  Clyde.  For  four  hundred  years  the  Ro- 
wiiian  occupat'p"  contiajjflS  K,,it?in  ^q»^»q  a  colony ; 
native  citizens  of  Rome  settled  there,  and  their  descend- 
ants remained.  Permanent  camps  were  established  in 
places  of  vantage ;  splendid  military  roads  were  built 
traversing  the  island  ;  the  fields  were  tilled  ;  the  mines 
were  worked ;  seaports  were  developed  ;  the  exports  of 


THE   ROMANS   AND   THE   TEUTONS  3 

Britain  became  an  important  factor  in  the  commerce 
of  Europe.  Even  the  luxuries  of  Roman  life  were  not 
lacking  in  wealthy  fortified  towns  like  York,  Lincoln, 
and  London.  However,  the  legions  were  withdrawn 
from  Britain  in  410  a.  d.  in  order  to  defend  the  empire" 
in  Italy  from  the  incursions  of  the  Goths ;  and  the  de- 
cay of  Roman  civilization  began.  The  rapidity  of  its 
disappearance  is  noteworthy.  Besides  the  solid  paving 
of  their  famous  roads  and  the  remains  of  their  massive 
walls,  scarcely  a  trace  of  this  domination  is  to  be  found. 
Only  a  half-dozen  words  remain  in  our  language  as  the 
undisputed  heritage  of  that  long  period  to  remind  us  that 
the  Latin  tongue  was  during  these  four  hundred  years 
the  native  speech  of  the  rulers  of  the  land.  The  names  of 
many  English  towns,  like  Chester,  Winchester,  Worces- 
ter, Gloucester,  Lancaster,  and  Doncaster,  preserve  the 
Latin  castra,  a  camp ;  the  English  street  (as  in  Wat- 
ling  Street,  the  name  of  an  ancient  Roman  road  run- 
ning north  from  Dover  to  Chester)  represents,  doubt- 
less, the  Latin  strata  via,  a  paved  way  ;  while  portus, 
fossa,  villa,  and  vallum  may  at  this  time  have  supplied 
the  words  which  give  us  modern  port,  fosse,  villa, 
and  wall.  The  native  Celts  had  been  partially  chris- 
tianized as  early  as  the  third  century ;  by  the  begin- 
ning of  the  fifth  the  Church  in  Britain  had  attained  a 
decided  growth,  and  was  an  institution  of  considerable 
power. 

Upon  the  withdrawal  of  the  Roman  arms,  the  south- 
ern part  of  the  island  was  speedily  overrun 
by  fierce  tribes  from  the  highlands  of  the 
north,  and  by  other  tribes  no  less  fierce  from  Ireland 
on  the  west.  Invasions  by  the  Northmen  and  by  the 
Germans  from  the  shores  of  the  North  Sea  and  the 
Baltic  were  frequent  also  on  the  eastern  coast.  Par- 
ticularly these  last,  appearing  suddenly  and  settling 


4  THE    ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

with  their  white-winged  ships,  like  swift  and  merciless 
birds  of  prey,  were  a  constant  menace  to  the  dwellers 
along  the  coast,  whose  homes  they  burned,  and  whose 
property  they  stole  away.     In  449  the  Britons  invited 
aid  from  one  of  these  same  Teutonic  tribes,  and  in  that 
year    a   colony  from  Jutland,   under   the   twin    chiefs 
Hengest  and  Horsa,  settled  on  the  island  of  Thanet  off 
the   coast  of   Kent.     But  the  Jutes    themselves    soon 
turned  invaders,  and  as  fleet  followed  fleet,  bringing 
successive  bands  of  their  kinsfolk,  Kent  also  became 
their  possession,  together  with  various  tracts  along  the 
/southern   coast.     Perhaps   because    of   the    success    of 
/these  first-comers,  perhaps  because  of  the  crowding  of 
|  vigorous  warlike  neighbors,  representatives  of  two  other 
/  tribes,  the  Angles  and  the  Saxons,  peoples  nearly  re- 
/  lated  to  the_Jutes,  joined  in  the  general  migration  of 
/   the  tribes.     Dwellers  originally  in  the  low-coast  coun- 
/    tries  of  North  Germany  bordering  on  the  North  Sea, 
inhabiting  a  part  of  the  Danish  peninsula  and  territory 
\     extending  westward  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  Emms, 
a  region  beset  with  fog  and  damp,  and  constantly  ex- 
posed  to  the  incursions  of  the  sea,  the  life  of  these 
hardy  Teutons  was  one  continuous  struggle  with  storm 
and  flood.     No  wonder  that  in  their  eyes  the  island  of 
Britain  appeared  a  bright  and  winsome  land,  or  that 
they  were  attracted  to  its  sunnier  shore.     The  ocean 
ways  had  long  been  familiar  to  them,  and  for  genera- 
tions before  the  final  movement  their  adventurous  bands 
of   sea-rovers   had   pillaged    and    harried    the    British 

coasts.       These  tribes  lipd  munli  in  f£inninii  ;    {.hey  were 

of  one  parent  stock,  their  language  was  practically  one, 
their  social"customs  and  institutions  were  alike.  Their 
"religion  was  the  common  religion  of  the  north.  The 
names  of  our  "week  days  preserve  still  the  memory  of 
their  gods.     Wednesday  is  the  day  sacred  to  Woden, 


\ 


THE   HOME-MAKING  5 

the  head  of  their  mythology  and  the  ancestor  of  their 
kings  ;  Thor,  the  god  of  thunder  and  storm,  is  remem- 
bered in  Thursday  ;  Frig's  name  appears  in  Friday ; 
while  Tuesday  takes  the  name  of  Tiw,  the  god  of 
darkness  and  death.  Prominent  in  their  mythology  is 
Wyrd,  the  genius  of  fate :  "  Goes  ever  Wyrd  as  it 
will,"  declares  the  hero  of  the  epic  Beowulf.  Yet, 
pagans  though  they  were,  savage  to  cruelty  in  feud 
and  war,  boastful  of  speech,  heavy  eaters  and  deep 
drinkers,  our  Teutonic  forefathers  were  at  the  same 
time  a  sturdy,  healthful  race,  maintaining  customs  that 
were  honest  and  wholesome,  morally  sound,  and  in 
many  ways  superior  to  the  more  cultured  peoples  of 
southern  Europe. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  Jutes  populated  the  eastern 
county  of  Kent ;  they  also  established  settle-  The  Home- 
ments  here  and  there  on  the  southern  coast.  Making. 
The  Angles  settled  in  the  country  north  of  that  occu- 
pied by  the  Jutes,  and  built  up  a  great  kingdom  known 
as  East  Anglia,  a  division  of  which  into  Northfolk  and 
Southfolk  is  still  indicated  in  the  shires  of  Norfolk  and 
Suffolk ;  still  farther  north  did  this  English  conquest 
move,  until  even  Northumbria  was  under  the  English 
power.  Meanwhile  the  Saxons  had  not  lagged  behind 
their  neighbors  in  the  conquest  of  the  island.  Succes- 
sive migrations  of  this  people  had  already  won  more 
than  a  foothold  upon  the  southern  shore,  and  different 
divisions  of  the  tribe  shared  in  the  possession  of  this 
part  of  South  Britain.  East  Saxons  ruled  the  district 
lying  between  Kent  and  Suffolk,  which  is  now  called 
Essex ;  to  the  south  of  them  lay  the  domain  of  the 
South  Saxons,  who  have  left  their  name  in  Sussex; 
while  the  more  powerful  kindred  of  the  West  Saxons 
covered  the  territory  as  far  west  as  Cornwall,  and  won 
in  time  the  dominion  of  all  South  England,  establish- 


6  THE  ANGLO-SAXON  PERIOD 

ing  the  great  kingdom  of  Wessex.  Thus  the  history 
of  Britain  from  tlm  hpg-irmino-  nf  *llp  fiffV>  npnfnry  tn 
the  beginning  of  the  seventh  is  a  confused  and  bloody 
'chronicle. of  invasion  and  conquest-  The  ^eltic  race  — 
that  portion  of  it  which  was  not  absorbed  by  intermin- 
gling with  the  invaders  —  was  enslaved  or  driven  toward 
the  west  and  north  ;  those  who  found  an  abiding  place 
among  the  mountains  of  the  west  were  given  by  their 
Teuton  conquerors  the  name  of   We.hhA  or  strangers 


I   A, 


At  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century  there  were  four  jl 
principal  divisions  of  the  English  people :  there  were 
(1)  the  English  of  the  north,  covering  the  whole  of 
Northumberland,  and  (2)  the  English  of  East  Anglia 
in  Norfolk  and  Suffolk ;  Kent  was  fairly  included.  I 
Lwithin  the  borders  of  (3)  the  West  Saxons,  while  (4) 
the  central  division  of  the  island,  also  Anglian,  sur- 
rounded on  three  sides  by  these  other  kingdoms,  and 
on  the  west  by  the  Welsh,  was  known  as  Mercia,  the 
country  of  the  March,  or  the  border. 

During  the  ninth  century  a  new  spoiler  appeared  on 
the  English  coasts.  The  Danes  began  their  forays  on 
these  earlier  invaders,  and  the  English  peoples,  who 
for  two  hundred  years  had  been  contending  among 
themselves  for  leadership,  were  finally  united  into  one 
nation  under  Ecgberht,  King  of  the  West  Saxons,  and 
still  more  securely  under  the  great  King  Alfred  (871- 
901)  through  the  force  of  a  common  peril  and  common 
need. 

These  long-  centuries  of  cojiqn^  arirl  adjustment  in 
the  history  of  these  related  German  tribes  may  be 
cTesignafecfas  the  Anglo-Saxon  Period  ;  it  extends  from 
the  arrival  of  Hengest  and  Hfljjj  'n  449  *°  fhpi  ffia- 
sion  of  the  JSlormansjindrr  Willinm  ip  10661  and  thus 
covers  the  space  of  a  little  more  than  six^hundred 
years. 


8  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

II.    ANGLO-SAXON   POETRY. 

These    fair-skinned,    blue-eyed    English    folk    were, 

from  the  first,  lovers  of  song  and  story.     The 
The  Scop.  ..  „ '         .  ..      °  J 

very  relics  or  their  earliest  art  preserve  the 

scene  and  spirit  of  their  recreation.  Fierce  in  fight, 
often  merciless  in  the  pursuit  of  a  conquered  foe,  they 
loved  the  gleam  of  their  own  hearth-fire  and  the  coarse 
comfort  of  the  great  Saxon  hall,  with  its  heavy  tables 
and  crowded  benches.  Here  at  night  the  troop  gath- 
ered, carousing,  in  some  interval  of  peace.  The  earl 
himself,  at  the  high  table  set  crosswise  at  one  end  of 
the  huge  hall,  had  before  him  his  noisy  band  of  vassals 
thronging  the  mead-benches.  The  blaze  of  the  hearth- 
fire  in  their  midst  lights  up  the  faces  of  these  ruddy, 
strong-limbed  warriors ;  it  flashes  on  spear  and  axe, 
and  is  reflected  from  the  armor,  curiously  woven  of 
link-mail,  which  grotesquely  decorates  the  walls,  half 
hidden  by  shaggy  skins  of  wolf  and  bear.  The  noisy 
feasting  is  followed  by  a  lull.  The  harp  appears. 
Perhaps  the  lord  of  the  household  himself  receives  it, 
and  in  vigorous  tones  chants  in  time  with  the  twanging 
chords  some  epic  of  his  ancestors,  or  boasts  of  his  own 
fierce  deeds.  Perhaps  the  instrument  is  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  while  thane  after  thane  unlocks  the 
"  word-hoard  "  of  his  memory  as  he  may.  But  most 
frequently  it  is  the  jirofessional  scop,  or  gleeman,  who 
strikes  the  rhythmic  notes,  and  takes  up  the  burden  of 
the  tale  ;  he  has  a  seat  of  honor  near  his  lord  :  to  him 
the  rough  audience  listens  spellbound  ;  he  sways  their 
wild  spirits  at  his  will. 

"  There  was  chant  and  harp-clang  together 
In  presence  of  Healfdene's  battle-scarred  heroes. 
The  glee-wood  was  welcomed,  tales  oft  recounted 
When  Hrothgar's  scop,  delight  of  the  dwelling 
After  the  mead-bout,  took  up  the  tolling. 


WIDSITH  AND  DEOR  9 

The  song  was  sung  out 
The  gleeman's  tale  ended.     Spirits  soared  high 
Carousing  reechoed."  * 

Widsith,  or  Far-farer,  may  have  been  the  name  of 
such  a  singer,  whose  fame  is  preserved  in  widsith 
what  is  apparently  the  very  oldest  of  Old  Eng-  and  Deor- 
lish  poems  extant.  It  is  preserved  in  the  so-called 
Exeter  Book,  a  priceless  volume  of  Anglo-Saxon  man- 
uscript, presented  to  the  Cathedral  at  Exeter  by 
Bishop  Leofric  (1046-73),  still  in  the  possession  of 
the  cathedral.  Sometimes  called  The  Scop,  or  The 
Traveller's  Song,  this  ancient  poem  catalogues  the 
wanderings  of  the  gleeman. 

"  Widsith  unlocked  his  word-hoard  ;  and  then  spake 
He  among  men  whose  travel  over  earth 
Was  farthest  through  the  tribes  and  through  the  folks : 
Treasure  to  be  remembered  came  to  him 
Often  in  hall. 

Among  the  Myrgings,  nobles  gave  him  berth. 
In  his  first  journey  he,  with  Ealhhild, 
The  pure  peace-maker,  sought  the  fierce  king's  home, 
Eastward  of  Ongle,  home  of  Eormanric, 
The  wrathful  treaty-breaker."  2 

Hermanric,  the  great  king  of  the  Goths,  died  before 
the  close  of  the  fourth  century ;  and  if  Widsith  told 
his  own  story,  as  parts  of  the  poem  indicate,  we  have 
here  a  composition  dating  from  the  period  before  the 
migration,  although  the  long  catalogue  of  kings  and 
heroes  contains  some  names  which  mark  a  later  gener« 
ation  and  prove  the  interpolation  of  a  later  hand. 

"  Thus  wandering,  they  who  shape  songs  for  men 
Pass  over  many  lands,  and  tell  their  need, 
And  speak  their  thanks,  and  ever,  south  or  north, 
Meet  some  one  skilled  in  songs  and  free  in  gifts, 
Who  would  be  raised  among  his  friends  to  fame 
And  do  brave  deeds  till  light  and  life  are  gone. 

1  Beowulf,  11.  1063-1067,  1159-1161. 

2  Morley's  translation,  English  Writers,  vol.  ii. 


10  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

He  who  has  thus  -wrought  himself  praise  shall  have 
A  settled  glory  underneath  the  stars."  * 

So  Widsith  concludes.  A  companion  poem,  dating 
apparently  from  the  same  early  period,  presents  the 
scop  in  a  more  melancholy  mood.  This  is  Deors  La- 
ment, the  composition  of  some  singer  who  has  felt 
more  of  the  bitterness  of  life,  having  been  superseded 
in  the  favor  of  his  lord  by  some  cleverer  scop,  and  now 
lingers  late  on  earth  after  most  of  his  comrades  and 
patrons  have  gone. 

"  Whilom  was  I  Scop  of  the  Heodenings  : 
Dear  unto  my  lord  !  Deor  was  my  name. 
Well  my  service  was  to  me  many  winters  through ; 
Loving  was  my  lord  ;   till  at  last  Heorrenda  — 
Skilled  in  song  the  man  !  — seized  upon  my  land-right 
That  the  guard  of  Earls  granted  erst  to  me. 
That,  one  overwent  ;  this,  also  may  I."  - 

But  by  far  the  most  interesting  and  impressive  ex- 
ample of  early  English  art  is  found  in  our 
great  Anglo-Saxon  epic,  three  thousand  lines 
in  length,  which  preserves  out  of  the  distant  past  the 
mythical  career  of  Beowulf,  prince  of  the  Geats.  The 
form  of  the  epic  as  we  know  it  appears  to  have  been 
the  work  of  a  Northumbrian  poet  in  either  the  eighth 
or  ninth  century.  It  embodies  various  legends  re- 
ported in  earlier  songs,  the  first  of  which  were  undoubt- 
edly composed  on  the  Continent,  probably  by  poets  of 
Angle-land.  An  interesting  feature  of  this  final  ver- 
sion, which  possesses  the  unity  of  the  genuine  epic  along 
with  the  other  characteristics  of  such  compositions,  is 
that  it  represents  the  work  of  a  Christian  writer  who 
has  sought  to  modify  the  paganism  of  its  earlier  narra- 
tive by  injecting  something  of  the  religious  spirit  of 
his  own  time  into  the  grim  mythology  of  the  older  lay. 

1  Morley,  English    \\'n'/,rs,  vol.  ii. 

2  fetopford  Brooke,  History  of  Early  English  Literature. 


BEOWULF        •  11 

The  title  of  the  poem  repeats  the  name  of  its  hero. 
Beowulf  is  a  typical  champion,  endowed  with  super- 
human strength,  sagacity,  courage,  and  endurance ; 
moreover,  in  common  with  the  heroes  of  this  type,  he 
is  foreordained  to  relieve  the  ills  of  those  who  have 
great  need,  and  is  always  ready  to  respond  to  their 
necessity.     The  story  is  this  :  — 

Hrothgar,  the  Dane,  far-famed  for  his  victories,  for 
his  justice  and  generosity  no  less,  grown  old  TheTale 
in  years,  builds  for  his  warriors  a  great  mead- 
hall.     There  the  gray-haired  chieftain    assembles  his 
vassals  for  feasting  and  mirth  ;  but  an  unheard-of  hor- 
ror comes  upon  Heorot,  great  "  hall  of  the  hart,"  which 
Hrothgar  has  built.     Out  from  the  fens,  when  night 
falls,  stealthily  creeps  the  bog-monster  Grendel;    en- 
ters the  new  house  where  the  earls  after  carousal  lie 
asleep  on  the  benches.     One  and  another  and  another 
of  Hrothgar's  men  is  attacked  and  devoured  by  the 
demon  ;  night  after  night  Grendel  devastates  the  mead- 
hall.     No  one  of  Hrothgar's  thanes  is  brave  enough  or 
strong  enough  to  cope  with  the  monster.     Heorot  is 
deserted,  and  the  old  chief  sits  gloomily  in  his  former 
home  to  mourn  in  silence  the  loss  of  men  and  of  honor. 
Up  in  the  Northland  Hygelac's  thane,  Beowulf,  young, 
bold,  robust,  already  famous  for  a  daring  feat  in  swim- 
ming, and  destined  to  be  Hygelac's  heir  and  successor, 
hears  of  Hrothgar's  plight  and  of  Grendel.     Soon,  with 
a  band  of  chosen  men,  Beowulf  travels  southward,  fol- 
lows "  the  whale-path,"  "  the  swan-road,"  until  his  ship 
strikes  the  shore  of  Hrothgar's  kingdom.     The  coast- 
guard, first  descried  sitting  his  horse  like  a  statue,  gal- 
lops to  meet  the  strangers  and  challenges  their  landing. 
Beowulf    is   conducted  to   Hrothgar  and  declares  his 
purpose  to  kill  the  monster  and  free  the  land.     Gladly 
does  the  Dane  listen  and  generous  welcome  does  he 


12  THE    ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

make  for  the  Northmen.  Night  comes,  and  once  more 
is  Heorot  ablaze  with  the  light  of  the  hearth-fire  and 
noisy  with  the  merriment  of  revel.  Wassail  is  drunk, 
tales  are  told,  bold  boasts  are  made ;  but  hardly  have 
the  shouts  died  away,  and  the  revelers  disposed  them- 
selves to  sleep  on  the  benches,  when  the  fearful  fen- 
dragon  approaches  :  he  has  heard  the  noise  of  feasting 
from  afar,  and  now  he  steals  toward  the  hall,  lauffhiner 
as  he  thinks  of  his  prey.  The  fire  has  died  out ;  the 
hall  is  in  darkness.  One  of  Hrothgar's  men  is  seized 
and  devoured.  Raging,  with  lust  for  flesh  aroused, 
Grendel  grasps  another  in  his  claws ;  but  it  is  the  hero 
whom  the  bog-monster  has  unwittingly  caught,  and  now 
Beowulf,  roused  for  vengeance,  starts  up  to  battle  with 
Grendel.  Unarmed,  the  hero  grapples  with  his  enemy. 
The  hall  sways  with  the  shock  of  the  fighting.  He 
clutches  Grendel  by  the  wrist ;  never  had  the  monster 
felt  a  grasp  like  that.  The  muscles  ache,  the  cords  of 
the  demon's  arms  are  snapping,  the  shoulder  is  torn 
from  the  socket ;  the  weary  marsh-dweller  gropes  his 
way  blindly  forth,  and  weakly  wends  toward  his  foul 
home  in  the  swamp-land.  Grendel  is  wounded  to  the 
death.  Beowulf  rests  after  victory,  and  shows  the  hid- 
eous claw,  his  war  trophy,  to  the  Danes.  Great  joy 
comes  to  Hrothgar  with  the  dawn,  but  with  the  night 
woe  returns.  Grendel's  mother  now  issues  from  the 
death-breeding  marshes,  and  invades  the  hall  of  Heorot. 
Once  more  there  is  wailing  among  the  thanes,  once 
more  sorrow  sits  in  Hrothgar's  house ;  but  once  again 
Beowulf  girds  himself  for  battle.  With  his  faithful 
followers,  the  hero  now  invades  the  fatal  fen-land  it- 
self ;  he  stands  upon  the  shore  of  the  mist-covered  in- 
let where  the  marsh-demons  breed.  Strange  and  loath- 
some shapes  appear,  half  shrouded  in  fog ;  nixies  and 
sea-dragons  sprawl  on  the  rocks  or  beat  the  water  glar- 


BEOWULF  13 

ing  at  the  hero  from  the  cloudy  waves  of  the  mere. 
Here  Beowulf  equips  himself,  puts  on  his  best  corselet, 
grasps  the  strongest  brand ;  then  he  enters  the  dark 
water,  presses  down  through  the  flood,  beset  by  the 
sea-monsters,  bruised  by  their  shasp  tusks,  undaunted, 
down,  down  to  the  dwelling  of  the  monsters,  where  the 
fierce  she-demon  waits.  Meanwhile  his  men  keep 
watch  and  ward  above  ;  gloom  settles  on  them  ;  doubt 
fills  their  hearts  with  dread.  The  clay  drags  by ;  no 
sight  of  their  hero.  Still  they  wait,  and  silent  stare 
on  the  sea.  Now  a  commotion  stirs  the  thick  water ; 
the  surface  boils  under  the  mists ;  blood  rolls  up  red 
through  the  foam,  and  Beowulf's  men  yield  to  grief 
and  despair.  But  soon  the  grief  gives  way  to  glad- 
ness, for  the  hero  himself  emerges  from  the  horrible 
flood,  bringing  news  of  the  she-demon's  slaughter  and 
a  new  trophy,  Grendel's  head ;  this  it  was  that  sent 
the  red  blood  welling  up  through  the  mere  depths  when 
Beowulf  smote  Grendel's  dead  body.  Loud  is  the  re- 
joicing ;  triumphantly  do  the  Northmen  give  the  Danes 
warning  of  their  home-coming.  Rich  are  the  gifts  be- 
stowed by  Hrothgar ;  great  is  the  feasting.  Then  Beo- 
wulf's followers  remember  the  home-land  ;  the  "  slip- 
pery sea-rover  "  is  launched,  the  warriors  embark  with 
their  presents,  Beowulf  says  farewell  to  Hrothgar,  and 
steers  north  to  Hygelac's  kingdom. 

Beowulf  achieves  another  adventure.  Now  he  is  old  : 
as  Hygelac's  successor,  fifty  winters  he  has  ruled  well 
and  wisely  ;  his  land  has  prospered,  but  an  enemy  now 
destroys  his  men,  and  by  night  the  land  is  laid  waste. 
This  time  it  is  a  fire-drake  with  which  Beowulf  must 
battle  ;  and  the  hero  goes  forth,  dauntless  as  ever,  to 
meet  the  monster.  But  now  his  men  prove  cowards  ; 
the  hero  is  left  alone  to  fight  with  the  dragon,  —  alone 
but  for  Wiglaf ,  who  stands  behind  his  lord's  shield  and 


14  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

helps  as  he  may.     Long  they  fight,  monster  and  man ; 

this  is  no  Grendel,  this  fire-spurter.     The  fierce  heat 

shrivels  up  the  shield,  the  heroes  are  hard  pressed ;  but 

at  last  Wiglaf  disables  the  dragon,  Beowulf  gives  the 

deathblow.      But    Beowulf,  too,   has    been    hurt    and, 

though    victor,   lies    sick    of    his  death-wound.     Then 

Wiglaf  brings  forth  the  hoard  from  the  cave  where  the 

worm  had  so  long  guarded  it,  and  Beowulf  feasts  his 

eyes  ere  they  close  upon  the  vast  treasure  he  bequeaths 

to    his    people.     The   hero  is  dead :  rear   his   funeral 

pyre  !     Upon  the  tall  promontory,  a  beacon  to  sailors, 

friends  burn   the  body  ;   with  the  roar  of  the  flames 

mingle  death-chant  and  wailing. 

Such  are  the  stories  that  children  usually  delight  in  ; 

thus  in  the   childhood  of  our  race  was  this 
Signifi- 
cance oi        tale  told.     Perhaps  under  the  mists  of  their 

1  e  Ep  c"  swampy,  sea-swept  land,  the  rush  of  the  storm 
and  the  more  subtle  attacks  of  malarious  fevers  may  be 
grotesquely  and  fancifully  shadowed  forth,  evaded  only 
by  the  courage  and  wisdom  of  some  hero  who  builds 
the  dikes  or  drains  the  marshes  ;  but  after  all  the  main 
fact  is  that  our  Anglo-Saxon  forefathers  approved  the 
qualities  idealized  in  this  hero  of  the  epic,  and  honored 
in  him  the  stout-hearted  men  of  their  race  who  con- 
tended not  only  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  with  those 
mysterious  hosts,  those  uncanny  powers  of  sea  and  air, 
whose  existence  they  assumed,  but  whose  nature  and 
form  lay  hidden  in  the  darkness  of  fog  and  night.  The 
poem  of  Beowulf  supplies  many  vivid  picturings  of 
early  English  life  and  manners  ;  the  hero  of  the  poem 
is  really  the  idealization  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  himself. 
That  there  is  an  historical  basis  for  the  myth  is  hardly 
to  be  doubted.  The  name  of  Ilygelac  is  identified 
with  that  of  Cochilaicus  (a  northern  chieftain  who  was 
slain  in  battle  about  the  year  520).     In  the  latter  part 


«,ode  v 


ur)no~ 


nm,  foef  L&w  v.on  -^em^* 


.  li- 


te Xhnecfiati  (y^an  mhv  1?-coni 
iam  HufeC  liu  W  Jittm^  dene- <£j-rsr€j* 

tie-  afelw^a,  ^e^iW  fyep^w  *epr£^ 

'co  ham  zantstf  trxib  \<8Q&"  V<£i  pfrlLc  VIC& 
Haprff  ^r^jt,  ptfre-  pTp  up  d/i*pe*  imcet 

priori  p  epyan  -5 4f-ccf  y^f  j>  5^  f  M  ^ 


SEDUCED   FACSIMILE   OF  A  PAGE   OF  BEOWULF  MANUSCIUPT  IN   THE 

BKITISH   MUSEUM 


16 


THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 


of  the  poem  there  is  evidently  a  mingling  of  the  story 
with  the  myth  of  Siegfried  and  the  dragon  of  the 
Rhinegold,  Faffner.  Of  the  feats  ascribed  to  Beowulf, 
the  account  of  a  remarkable  swimming  match  described 
in  the  poem  may  easily  be  based  on  fact,  and  the  inci- 
dent of  the  hand-to-hand  struggle  with  sea-monsters 
and  the  plunge  downward  to  the  submarine  cave  is  not 
so  wholly  incredible  as  it  might  seem. 

There  is  but  a  single  manuscript  of  the  Beowulf 
poem,  greatly  damaged  by  fire  and  age,  now 
preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  There  are 
3180  lines  in  the  poem,  and  it  is  worth  while 
to  examine  its  form  somewhat  in  detail.  The  epic  be- 
gins thus  :  — 


The 

Metrical 

Form. 


"  Hwset !  we  Gar-Dena 
peod-cyninga, 
hu  pa  ai5eliugas 
Oft  Scyld  Scefing 
monegum  msegpum 
(egsode  eorl), 
fea-seeaft  f unden ; 
weox  under  wolcnum, 
oS  \>ait  him  ffighwylc 
ofer  hron-rade 
gomban  gyldan 

"  Lo !  we  of  the  Spear-Danes 
Of  warrior  kings 
How  the  princes 
Oft  Scyld,  son  of  Scef, 
From  many  kindreds, 
The  Earl  inspired  terror 
Helpless,  a  waifling ; 
Waxed  under  the  welkin, 
Until  to  him  each 
Over  the  whale-road 
Tribute  paid : 


in  gear-dagum 
prym  gefrunon, 
ellen  fremedon. 
sceapena  preatum, 
meodo-setla  ofteah. 
SySSan  seres  I  wearS 
he  pass  frofre  gebad, 
weorS-myndum  pah, 
para  ymb-sittendra 
hyran  scolde, 
past  wffis  god  cyning !  " 

in  days  of  yore 

the  fame  have  heard  ; 

mighty  deeds  wrought. 

from  hosts  of  foes, 

the  mead-benches  took ; 

after  first  he  was  found 

he  for  that  comfort  found  later, 

in  honors  throve. 

of  those  dwelling  around  him 

obedience  gave, 

that  was  a  goodly  king !  " 


Then  follows  the  genealogy  of    Hrothgar,  builder  of 
Heorot  and  victim  of  Grendel's  ra«e. 


ANGLO-SAXON  VERSE  17 

The  characteristic  structure  of  Anglo-Saxon  verse  is 
illustrated  in  the  passage  given.  The  composition  is 
metrical,  although  the  number  of  syllables  in  one  vei>se 
may  vary  from  that  in  another.  While  there  is  no 
end-rhyme  in  these  verses,  there  is  a  recurrence  of  con- 
sonants which  forms  a  rhyme  in  the  body  of  the  verse ; 
this  repetition  of  initial  sounds  is  called  alliteration, 
and  this  is  the  most  conspicuous  feature  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  poetry.  The  common  type  of  verse  is  found  in 
lines  4,  5,  7,  8,  11,  where  two  syllables  alliterating  in 
the  first  half -verse  are  followed  by  one  such  in  the 
second.  The  alliteration  is  a  mark  of  emphasis  always, 
but  the  position  of  these  emphatic  syllables  is  not  uni- 
form. Sometimes,  as  in  lines  2, 10,  a  single  syllable  in 
the  first  half-verse  alliterates  with  one  in  the  second  ; 
such  a  double  correspondence  as  occurs  in  line  1  is 
rare.  In  lines  3,  6,  9  vowel  alliteration  occurs,  and 
this  does  not  require  that  the  vowels  shall  be  the  same. 
Read  or  chanted  by  the  gleeman,  a  pronounced  rhythm 
was  imparted  to  the  lines,  emphasized  by  the  pauses 
and  the  accents,  which  were  strongly  marked.  Recited 
thus  with  resonant  tones  to  the  rhythmical  twang  of 
the  harp-cord,  this  which  seems  so  rude  and  hoarse 
became  a  vigorous,  not  unmelodious  song. 

The    most    striking   characteristic   of    Anglo-Saxon 
poetry  is  the  rough  vigor,  the  intense  energy, 
of  its  homely  but  effective  style.     There   is  spirit 
virile  strength  and  power  in  its  movement,  its   "^""jj8 
emphasis,  imagery,  and  theme.     If  one  reads   Saxon 
these    ancient    memorials  of  our  forefathers 
intelligently  and    in   a  mood  sympathetic   with    their 
half-wild,  half-cultured  spirit,  he  will  be  captivated  by 
the  sweep  and  power  of  their  verse.     The  imagery  of 
the  early  gleemen  is  rich  in  metaphors,  metonymy,  and 
personification.     The  ocean    is  poetically  termed    the 


18  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

"  whale-path,"  the  "  swan-road  ;  "  the  ship  is  described 
as  the  "  wave-traverser,"  the  "  floater,  foamy-necked, 
like  to  some  sea-fowl ;  "  2  the  gleeman's  repertory  is 
his  "  word-hoard  ;  "  the  sun  becomes  "  God's  bright 
candle,"  "  heaven's  gem  ;  "  swords  "  bite,"  the  war-horn 
"  sings  ;  "  Hrothgar  is  called  the  "  helm  "  of  the  Scyld- 
ings.  In  descriptive  passages  the  poet  loved  to  let  his 
fancy  play  about  his  theme,  reintroducing  the  idea,  but 
turning  his  phrase  to  let  light  fall  upon  it  from  some 
other  side.  Thus,  in  describing  the  hero's  preparation 
for  his  encounter  with  the  sea-wife,  the  poet  says  :  — 

"  Beowulf  girded  him, 
Wore  his  war-armor ;  not  for  life  was  he  anxious. 
The  linked  coat  of  mail,  the  hand-woven  corselet 
Broad  and  gold-embossed,  should  breast  the  deep  currents; 
That  which  the  bone-chamber  well  should  protect, 
That  his  breast  by  the  battle-grip  might  not  be  bruised, 
The  attack  of  the  terror  bring  scath  to  his  body. 
But  the  white-shining  helmet  guarded  his  head  ; 
This  mid  the  mere-depths  with  sea-waves  should  mingle, 
With  treasure  adorned  should  dart  through  the  surges, 
Encircled  with  gems,  as  in  days  that  are  bygone 
The  weapon-smith  wrought  it,  wondrously  worked  it, 
A  boar's  crest  above  it  that  never  thereafter 
Brand  might  it  bite  or  battle-sword  harm  it."  "2 

Naturally  enough  these  early  English  poets  were  in- 
spired by  the  deeds  of  warriors,  and  their  work  is  full 
not  only  of  battle  scenes,  but  also  of  the  imagery  of 
war.  In  nature  they  were  impressed  by  the  elemen- 
tal phenomena  of  storm  and  climate,  —  the  descent  of 
winter,  the  birth  of  spring.  As  they  delighted  in  the 
narrative  of  conflict,  so  they  loved  to  picture  man's 
struggle  with  the  sea  and  to  sing  of  the  ocean  in  all  its 
varying  moods  :  — 

■   Beowulf,  1.  '-'is. 

-   Ibid.  II.  1441-1454.     Compare  also  the  parallelisms  in  Csedmon's 
hymn,  p.  22. 


CONVERSION   OF  THE   SAXONS  19 

"  The  wild  rise  of  the  waves, 
The  close  watch  of  night 
At  the  dark  prow  in  danger 
Of  dashing  on  rock. 


The  wide  joy  of  waters 
The  whirl  of  salt  spray. 

There  is  no  man  among  us 
So  proud  in  his  mind, 
Nor  so  good  in  his  gifts, 
Nor  so  gay  in  his  youth, 
Nor  so  daring  in  deeds, 
Nor  so  dear  to  his  lord 
That  his  soul  never  stirred 
At  the  thought  of  sea-faring."1 


The  reestablishment  of  Christianity  in  Britain  intro- 
duced a  new  epoch  in  English  life  and  litera-  The  Con- 
ture.  While  among  the  native  Cymri  there  Lertllon 
were  many  who  had  adopted  the  Christian  Saxons. 
religion,  largely  through  the  ministration  of  Irish 
missionaries,  the  Anglo-Saxons  themselves  continued 
in  the  worship  of  Woden  and  Thor,  and  in  many  parts 
of  England  the  older  native  paganism  of  the  Druids 
was  still  maintained.  But  in  the  year  597  Augustine, 
the  Apostle  to  the  Saxons  as  he  was  called,  sent  from 
Rome  by  Pope  Gregory  I.,  landed  on  that  little  isle 
of  Thanet,  where  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  earlier 
Hengest  and  Horsa  had  gained  their  first  foothold  on 
the  British  coast ;  by  the  end  of  the  year  this  mission- 
ary had  baptized  ten  thousand  Saxon  converts.  He  was 
consecrated  archbishop,  founded  the  Cathedral  church 
at  Canterbury,  and  died  there  in  604.  Under  the 
teaching  of  Paulinus,  Aidan,  and  others,  Northumbria 
was  gradually  won    for    the   faith.2     Communities  of 

1  The  Seafarer,  Morley's  translation,  English  Writers,  vol.  ii. 

2  Several  interesting  traditions  of  the  conversion  of  Edwin's  folk  and 
the  parable  of  the  sparrow  are  pleasantly  told  by  Wordsworth,  Ecclesi- 
astical Sonnets,  xiii.,  xiv.,  xv.,  xvi. 


20  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

devotees,  where  both  men  and  women  piously  inclined 
gathered  for  religious  fellowship  and  a  consecrated 
life,  were  established,  and  in  time  became  seats  of 
learning  as  well  as  centres  of  religious  zeal.  Very 
ancient  was  the  famous  community  of  monks  estab- 
lished by  Columba,  the  Irish  exile,  on  the  island  of 
Iona,  off  the  western  coast  of  Scotland  ;  in  a  sense 
Iona  was  the  mother  of  the  new  religious  settlement  at 
Lindisfarne,  or  Holy  Island,  on  the  bleak  Northum- 
brian coast,  where  Aidan  placed  his  seat.  In  657,  at 
Whitby,  on  the  Yorkshire  cliffs  overlooking  the  North 
Sea,  Hilda  founded  her  community  of  Streoneshalh. 
In  673  a  band  of  monks  settled  at  Ely,  in  Cambridge- 
shire. Peterborough  began  the  building  of  its  great 
abbey  about  ten  years  later,  and  J  arrow,  ever  associ- 
ated with  the  fame  of  Bede,  had  its  beginning  at  about 
this  time.  With  the  growth  of  Christian  sentiment  a 
new  spirit  appears  in  Anglo-Saxon  literature.  Old 
motives  are  curiously  adapted  to  the  new  ends.  The 
glory  of  conflict  still  occupies  the  mind  of  the  poet, 
warfare  and  bloodshed  are  still  described,  but  the  ma- 
terial is  drawn  from  Hebrew  history,  or  from  the  lives 
of  saints  and  martyrs.  The  old  fatalism  of  the  Teu- 
tons is  greatly  modified,  and  the  melancholy  of  the 
pagan  gives  place  to  the  Christian's  hopefulness  and 
faith.  Thus,  in  a  long  religious  poem  of  the  eighth 
century,  we  find  passages  like  this  :  — 

"  I  have  heard  the  fame  of  a  land  far  hence ; 
Eastward  it  lies,  loveliest  of  lands 
Known  among1  men.     Not  easy  of  access 
To  many  earth-dwellers,  who  this  mid-region  traverse. 
Is  this  favored  retreat,  but  far  is  it  removed 
Through  the  Creator's  might  from  ill-minded  men. 
Fair  aiv  its  fields,  full  of  delights; 
Fragrant  with  fairest  odors  of  earth. 
There  is  no  land  like  this  land  ;  marvelous  its  Maker, 
Proud,  rich  in  power,  he  who  thus  planned  it ! 


CAEDMON  21 

There  is  oft  granted  to  the  blessed  tog-ether 

Harmonies  glorious,  Heaven's  gates  flung  wide  open. 

That  is  a  winsome  land ;  wide  wave  its  forests 

Green  neath  the  sky.     Nor  may  there  rain  nor  snow, 

Neither  frost's  bite  nor  fire's  blast, 

Neither  hail's  dart  nor  hoar-frost's  blight, 

Neither  blazing  heat  nor  bitter  cold, 

Neither  hot  wind,  nor  winter  storm 

Work  wrong  to  any ;  but  this  wonder-land 

Seemeth  blessed  and  blissful,  a-blossom  with  bloom.'' 1 

With  the  first  appearance  of  this  new  motive  in  onr 
literature,  we  make  acquaintance  with  the 
personality  of  our  first  native  English  poet  mon,  died 
whose  name  is  preserved,  —  the  humble  singer 
whose  interesting  story  has  been  told  by  Baeda,  or 
Bede,  in  his  Historia  J?cclesiastica,  compiled  within 
some  sixty  years  of  this  singer's  death.  According  to 
Bede,  there  was  living  at  the  Monastery  of  Streones- 
halh  (Whitby),  in  the  time  of  the  Abbess  Hilda,  who 
died  in  680,  a  lay  brother  by  the  name  of  Caedmon. 
This  man  was  of  mature  age,  unlearned,  and  engaged 
on  common  menial  tasks.  Without  skill  in  song  or 
improvisation,  Caedmon  was  compelled  to  keep  silence 
when  the  harp  passed  from  hand  to  hand  at  the  even- 
ing merry-makings,  where  each  was  expected  to  assist 
in  the  general  entertainment.  Sometimes,  says  Bede, 
when  he  saw  the  harp  coming  near  him  he  rose  from 
the  table  and  silently  slipped  away.  One  evening 
thus  he  betook  himself  to  the  stables,  the  care  of 
the  cattle  having  been  for  that  night  assigned  to  him. 
Here  he  slept,  and  as  he  slept  some  one  stood  by  him 
and  saluted  him,  calling  him  by  name  :  "  Caedmon," 
said  he,  "  sing  me  something  !  r  But  he  replied,  "  I 
know  not  how  to  sing ;  since  for  that  very  reason  I 
have  left  the  company,  because  I  cannot  sing."     And 

1   The  Phoenix,  II.  1-20  ;  attributed  to  Cynewulf.     The  first  part  of 
this  poem  is  a  paraphrase  of  a  Latin  original. 


22  THE  ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

the  one  who  talked  with  him  said  :  "  Nevertheless  you 
shall  sing  to  me."  "What  shall  I  sing?"  he  asked. 
Then  that  one  replied  :  "  Sing  the  beginning  of  cre- 
ated things."  Then  Csedmon  arose  and  sang  in  praise 
of  God  the  Creator  verses  of  which  this  is  the  sense  : 
"  Now  we  ought  to  praise  the  Author  of  the  Heavenly 
kingdom,  the  power  of  the  Creator,  and  his  counsel, 
the  deeds  of  the  Father  of  Glory.  How  He,  the 
Eternal  God,  of  all  wonders  the  Author  became  ;  who 
first  for  the  children  of  men  created  Heaven  for  a 
roof,  then  the  earth,  Guardian  of  the  human  race,  the 
Almighty."  This  is  the  sense,  says  Bede,  but  not  the 
order  of  the  words  which  he  sane.1 

This  was  the  vision;  in  the  morning  Caedmon  re- 
cadmon's  membered  his  dream  and  was  able  to  recite 
works.  the  verses  he  had  uttered  while  asleep. 
Hilda,    the    abbess,    greatly    interested    in    Caedmon's 

1  This  important  work  of  Bede  was  afterward  translated  by  King- 
Alfred  from  the  Latin  into  the  Anglo-Saxon  tongue  (see  page  34). 
In  the  text  Alfred  incorporated  the  following  version  of  Ca3dmon's 
hymn,  which  possibly  retains  in  large  part  the  "  order  "  as  well  as  the 
"sense  "  of  the  original  song.  It  may  at  all  events  serve  to  illustrate 
iurther  the  fashion  of  Anglo-Saxon  verse.     (Zupitza's  reading  is  used.) 

"  Nu  Bculan  herigean  lieofonricea  weard, 
Meotodes  meahte  ond  his  modgethanc, 
Weorc  wuldorfseder,  swa  lie  wundra  gehwaes, 
Ece  driliten,  or  onsteal'le. 
He  arrest  sceop  eorthan  bearnum 
Heofon  to  hrofe,  halig  seyppend  : 
Tlia  middangeard,  inoncynnes  weard, 
Ece  drihten,  aefter  teode 
Firum,  foldan,  frea  wlmihtig." 

Translation. 

"  Now  ought  we  to  worship  the  Warder  of  Hpaven, 
T1k>  might  of  the  Creator  and  His  mighty  thought ; 
The  work  of  the  glorious  Father  ;  how  he  of  every  wonder, 
Kternal  Lord,  —  a  beginning  made. 
He  first  created  for  the  children  of  earth 
Heaven  for  a  roof,  —  holy  Creator  ; 
Then  the  mid-region,  —  Guardian  of  mankind  ; 
The  Kternal  Lord  afterward  established 
For  men  the  earth  ;  Ruler  Almighty." 


CYNEWULF  23 

story,  directed  the  unlearned  man  to  come  daily  to 
the  monastery,  where  the  monks  told  him  the  narra- 
tive of  sacred  history.  "  Then  Caedmon  meditated 
all  that  he  heard  and,  like  a  clean  animal  ruminat- 
ing, turned  it  into  sweetest  verse.  And  his  songs 
were  so  winsome  to  hear  that  his  teachers  themselves 
wrote  down  his  words  and  learned  from  him."  1  Then 
Caedmon  himself  became  a  monk,  and  inspired  by  this 
poetic  fire  so  mysteriously  kindled,  paraphrased  the 
accounts  of  Genesis  and  Exodus,  together  with  many 
other  portions  of  the  Scripture  narrative.  "  Not  at  all 
from  men  was  it,"  says  Bede,  "  nor  instructed  by  man, 
that  he  learned  the  song-craft ;  but  he  was  divinely  in- 
spired and  by  God's  gift  he  received  the  power  of 
song  ;  therefore  he  never  would  compose  fanciful  or 
idle  verses,  but  only  those  which  pertain  to  righteous- 
ness, and  which  it  became  his  pious  tongue  to  sing." 
Many  others  in  England  began  to  write  religious  poe- 
try after  Caedmon's  time,  but  none  could  compare  with 
him.  Such  was  Bede's  judgment  of  this  first  poet  of 
the  soil,  who  sang  because  he  was  commanded.  Thus 
has  it  ever  been  when  the  unaffected  poetry  of  nature 
has  its  birth. 

Aside  from  Caedmon,  the  only  one  of  the  Old  Eng- 
lish poets  known  to  us  by  name  is  Cynewulf, 
a  writer  of  great  influence  and  a  poet  of  gen-  bom  about 
uine  power.     Yet  Cynewulf's  actual  person- 
ality and  the  details  of  his  life  are  so  obscured  by  the 
shadows  of  a  distant  past  that  there  is  more  of  con- 
jecture than  of  certainty  in  the  accepted  narrative  of 
his  career.     His  work  must  have  fallen  about  a  cen- 
tury after  Caedmon's.     We  are  assured   that  he,  too, 
was  a  Northumbrian.     Unlike  the  older  singer  of  such 
humble  origin,  Cynewulf  was  from  the  first  a  mover  in 

1  King  Alfred's  Anglo-Saxon  version  of  Bede's  Historia. 


24  THE  ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

courtly  circles,  —  in  one  of  his  poems  he  tells  us  as 
much,  —  was  perhaps  of  noble  lineage,  at  least  a  thane 
or  a  retainer  of  some  high  lord.  With  the  experiences 
of  the  warrior  he  must  have  been  familiar,  for  his  war- 
scenes  are  realistic,  and  the  spirit  of  the  soldier  speaks 
in  the  vividness  of  his  narrative.  A  traveler  who 
knew  the  sea  and  had  been  in  distant  lands,  a  scholar 
to  whom  the  Latin  tongue  was  familiar,  a  gentleman 
well-trained  in  the  accomplishments  of  his  time  —  all 
these  Cynewulf  seems  to  have  been,  withal  participat- 
ing freely,  as  a  youth,  in  the  pleasures  and  excitements 
of  a  worldly  life.  He  may  have  been  the  author  of  a 
series  of  one  hundred  riddles  in  verse,  but  this  is  doubt- 
ful. At  least  four  ambitious  works  are  identified  by 
his  own  autograph  as  indisputably  his.  These  are  the 
Life  of  St.  Juliana,  the  Fates  of  the  Apostles,  the 
Elene,  and  the  Christ.  In  each  of  these  poems,  runes, 
ingeniously  inserted  in  the  text,  spell  out  the  poet's 
name.  In  addition  to  these  known  works,  a  Life  of 
St.  Guthlac,  a  similar  one  of  Andreas,  and  a  para- 
phrase of  a  Latin  poem  by  Lactantius  entitled  The 
Phoenix  are  with  several  minor  poems  also  attributed 
to  Cynewulf.  Of  all  these  the  Elene,  the  Christ,  and 
the  Phoenix  are  among  the  best  productions  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  poetry.  Cynewulf  had  turned  from  his  worldly 
life,  had  possibly  become  a  monk  ;  at  any  rate  had 
thrown  his  talent  with  all  his  heart  and  soul  into  the 
effort  to  exalt  the  Christian  faith  and  to  sing  the  glory 
of  the  Cross.  In  the  Dream  of  the  Rood,  certainly 
the  composition  of  this  writer,  is  told  the  story  of  a 
vision  somewhat  like  that  of  Csedmon,  in  which  the 
dreamer  sees  the  sacred  tree,  glittering  now  with  gold 
and  jewels,  now  stained  with  blood,  and  speaking  of 
the  precious  fruit  it  had  borne.  The  singer  is  bidden 
declare    this    sight   to  sinful  men  and  to  reveal  both 


CYNEWULF'S  VERSE  25 

what  has  been  and  what  shall  be.  The  Elene  narrates 
the  story  of  Helena,  mother  of  Constantine,  and  her 
finding  of  the  true  Cross.  In  the  Christ  we  find  three 
separate  poems  wherein  Cynewulf  describes  the  Advent, 
the  Ascension,  and  the  Day  of  Judgment.  The  follow- 
ing passage  from  the  second  section  of  this  work,  be- 
sides illustrating  the  style  of  Cynewulf's  composition, 
will  make  clear  the  poet's  use  of  runes  by  means  of 
which  he  weaves  his  own  name  into  the  text.  The 
words  in  capitals  represent  pretty  closely  the  mean- 
ings which  these  single  characters  commonly  represent. 

"  Then  shall  the  Courageous  tremble ;  he  shall  hear 
the  King,  the  Ruler  of  Heaven,  speak  stern  cynewulf's 
words  unto  those  who  in  time  past  ill  obeyed  verse. 
Him  on  earth,  while  as  yet  they  could  easily  find  com- 
fort for  their  Yearning  and  their  Need.  There  in 
that  place  shall  many  a  one,  weary  and  sore  afraid, 
await  what  dire  punishment  He  will  mete  out  to  them 
for  their  deeds.  Gone  is  the  Winsomeness  of  earth's 
adornments.  Long  ago  the  portion  of  Life's  joys 
granted  Us  was  compassed  about  by  Lake-floods,  our 
Fortune  on  the  earth.  Then  shall  our  treasures  burn 
in  fire ;  bright  and  swift  shall  the  red  flame  rage  ; 
fiercely  shall  it  rush  through  the  wide  world.  Plains 
shall  perish,  citadels  fall.  The  fire  shall  be  all  astir ; 
pitilessly  shall  that  greediest  of  spirits  waste  the  ancient 
treasure  which  men  held  of  old,  whilst  pride  abode 
with  them  upon  the  earth."  1 

Although  too  subjective  to  be  classified  as  epics,  the 
religious  poems  of  Cynewulf  are  most  characteristic  as 
well  as  most  impressive  in  those  passages  which  intro- 
duce the  themes  of  action.  Highly  suggestive  are  these 
lines  from  the    Elene  which  describe  the    voyage   of 

1  From   The   Christ   of  Cynewulf,  translated  into  English  prose  by 
C.  H.  Whitman  (Ginn). 


26  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

the  queen  and  her  company  on  their  way  to  seek  the 
Cross.  True  to  his  environment  and  the  instincts  of 
the  Teuton,  Cynewulf  shares  with  the  many  unidenti- 
fied singers  among-  his  people  the  Anglo-Saxon  love  of 
the  sea,  is  familiar  with  the  experiences  of  the  mariner, 
and  has  caught  the  spirit  and  the  tone  of  the  resound- 
ing waves. 

"  Gan  with  speed  the  crowd  of  earls 
Hasten  to  ship.     The  steeds  of  the  sea 
'Round  the  shore  of  the  ocean  ready  were  standing-, 
Cabled  sea-horses,  at  rest  on  the  water. 
Then  plainly  was  known  the  voyage  of  the  lady, 
When  the  welling  of  waves  she  sought  with  her  folk. 
There  many  a  proud  one  at  Wendel-sea 
Stood  on  the  shore.     They  severally  hastened 
Over  the  mark-paths,  hand  after  band, 
And  then  they  loaded  with  battle-sarks, 
With  shields  and  spears,  with  mail-clad  warriors, 
With  men  and  women,  the  steeds  of  the  sea. 
Then  they  let  o'er  the  billows  the  foamy  ones  go, 
The  high  wave-rushers.     The  hull  oft  received 
O'er  the  mingling  of  waters  the  blows  of  the  waves. 
The  sea  resounded.     Not  since  nor  ere  heard  I 
On  water-stream  a  lady  lead, 
On  ocean-street,  a  fairer  force. 
There  might  he  see,  who  that  voyage  beheld, 
Burst  o'er  the  bath-way,  the  sea-wood,  hasten 
'Neath  swelling  sails,  the  sea-horse  play, 
The  wave-floater  sail.     The  warriors  were  blithe, 
Courageous  in  mind  ;   queen  joyed  in  her  journey."  1 

In  addition  to  the  manuscript  of  Beowulf  already 
TheManu-  mentioned,  our  principal  source  of  acquaint- 
scripts.  ance  with  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  is  found  in  two 
famous  collections,  known  respectively  as  the  Exeter 
Book  and  the  Vercelli  Book.  The  first  of  these  trea- 
sures has  been  in  the  library  of  the  cathedral  at  Exeter 
since  the  time  of  Bishop  Leofric  (1046-73 ) ;  the  other 
was  discovered  in  1822  at  the  Monastery  of  Vercelli  in 

1  From  the  Elene,  translated  by  J.  M.  Garnett  (Giun),  11.  2-J.j-L'4T. 


BATTLE  NARRATIVES  27 

Italy  by  a  German  student.  This  latter  volume  con- 
tains the  Andreas,  the  Elene,  the  Dream  of  the  Rood, 
the  Fates  of  the  Aj)ostles  (all  supposed  to  be  by  Cyne- 
wulf),  and  two  Addresses  of  the  Sold  to  the  Body. 
Twenty-two  sermons  are  also  included  in  this  volume. 
The  Exeter  Book  preserves  the  manuscripts  (copies 
made  in  Leofric's  time)  of  Cynewulf's  Christ,  Juliana, 
and  St.  Guthlac,  also  a  second  St.  Guthlac  by  another 
monkish  writer,  the  Phoenix,  ascribed  to  Cynewulf, 
two  shorter  poems  of  great  merit,  the  Wanderer  and 
the  Seafarer,  Widsith,  Deor^s  Complaint,  and  several 
minor  didactic  poems,  with  a  collection  of  metrical  pro- 
verbs. One  fragment  of  verse  is  of  unique  interest  as 
presenting  almost  the  sole  example  of  anything  like 
romantic  sentiment  in  the  whole  body  of  Auglo-Saxon 
poetry. 

' '  Dear  the  welcomed  one 
To  the  Frisian  wife,  when  the  Floater  's  drawn  on  shore, 
When  his  keel  comes  back,  and  her  churl  returns  to  home, 
Her's,  her  own  food-giver.     And  she  prays  him  in, 
Washes  then  his  weedy  coat,  and  new  weeds  puts  on  him, 
O  lythe  it  is  on  land  to  him,  whom  his  love  constrains."  1 

Of  an  entirely  different  order  from  the  poetry  just 

described  are  two  stirring  accounts  of  actual  _  „,  „ 

•  •  p  iiT-        Battle  Nar- 

battles,  incorporated  in  the  Annals  of  Win-  ratives  in 

Chester,  which  belong  in  the  important  prose     erse' 

history  known  as  the  Anglo-Saxon   Chronicle.     The 

first  of  these  poems  describes  the  Battle  of  Brunnan- 

burh  in  the  year  937,  when  King  -ZEthelstan,  together 

with  his  brother  Eadmund,  "  won  life-long  fame  with 

the  edges   of   swords  "  in  battle  with  the  Scots   and 

Danes.     The  poem  is  especially  rich  in  that  vigorous 

imagery  peculiar  to   the  Anglo-Saxon  gleeman   when 

singing  of  conflict. 

• x  Gnomic  Verses,  translated  by  Stopford  A.  Brooke,  Early  English 
Literature. 


28  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

"  The  board-wall1  they  battered. 
The  linden-wood  1  hewed,  with  leavings  of  hammers. 

The  field  was  made  fat 
With  blood  of  brave  warriors,  after  sun  brightly  rose 
At  morning-tide,  —  that  marvellous  star, 
God's  gleaming  candle,  over  ground  glided,  — 
Until  the  Creator's  noble  creation 
Sank  to  his  seat.  .  .  . 

They  left  then  behind  them  to  hold  horrid  banquet 
That  black- feathered  bird,  horny-beaked, 
The  swart  raven  ;  and  the  gray-coated  robber, 
White-feathered  behind,  to  feast  on  the  carrion, 
The  greedy  war-hawk  ;  and  that  gray  wanderer, 
The  wolf  in  the  wood." 

The  poem  consists  of  seventy-three  lines ;  its  compan- 
ion piece,  the  Song  of  the  Fight  of  Maldon,  in  the 
year  991,  is  a  longer  composition,  and  although  incom- 
plete in  the  text  preserved,  numbers  325  lines  as  it 
stands.  It  recounts  the  story  of  the  battle  and  the 
death  of  Byrhtnoth,  an  East  Saxon  ealdorman  in  the 
time  of  iEthelred  "  the  Unready." 

While  not  all  the  extant  productions  of  scop  and 
Epic  Frag-  gleeman  are  recorded  in  this  volume,  there 
ments.  are  three  important  fragments  which  should 

be  mentioned.  These  are  Waldhere,  The  Fight  at  Fin- 
nesburg,  and  Judith.  Of  the  first  of  these  we  have 
but  a  portion,  sixty-two  lines  in  length  ;  the  manuscript 
apparently  belongs  to  the  eighth  century,  and  is  evi- 
dently a  copy  of  a  distinctly  German  epic  known  and 
sung  by  the  English.  The  story  of  Finn  and  the  de- 
struction of  his  stronghold  is  as  truly  an  English  epic 
as  is  the  Beowulf  itself ;  indeed,  the  fragment  of  some 
fifty  verses  is  supplemented  by  a  narrative  of  a  hun- 
dred   lines    introduced    in    Beowulf  as    the    song    of 

1  By  both  these   terms  the  shields  are   described  ;  the  leavings  of 
hammers  are  the  swords,  beaten  into  shape  and  tempered  by  the  smith. 


ANGLO-SAXON  PROSE  — BEDE  29 

Hrothgar's  scop.  Judith,  of  which  three  spirited  can- 
tos are  preserved,  was  one  of  the  great  epic  composi- 
tions of  our  early  literature.  It  has  been  unnecessarily 
attributed  to  Cynewulf,  but  belongs  to  a  later  genera- 
tion. It  contains  the  apocryphal  history  of  Judith 
and  Holofernes. 

III.     ANGLO-SAXON    PROSE. 

The  earliest  monuments  of  our  literature  we  have 
found  to  be  in  verse.  This  happens  natu-  verse  pre- 
rally.  In  the  first  place,  compositions  which  ^a Liter-6 
are  to  be  preserved  by  tradition  rather  than  ary  Form, 
by  letter,  either  printed  or  written,  will  be  more  easily 
retained  and  transmitted  in  metrical  form.  Secondly, 
in  a  society  which  honors  the  profession  of  the  bai-d, 
the  rhythm  and  ornament  of  verse  are  a  welcome  fea- 
ture of  the  recitation.  But  most  important  of  all  is 
the  historical  fact  that  in  the  childhood  of  any  people, 
poetry  is  the  more  natural,  almost  the  spontaneous 
form  adopted  by  those  who  are  moved  to  express 
thought  or  emotion  with  any  effort  toward  artistic  ef- 
fect. Such  utterance  comes  in  moments  of  exaltation, 
unpremeditated.  In  these  moods  men  become  poets 
in  spite  of  themselves.  Prose  composition  is  a  later 
and  more  labored  development. 

The  earliest  Anglo-Saxon  prose  of  any  literary 
value  seems  to  have  been  a  single  work  of  Bede  673. 
the  learned  and  pious  Northumbrian  monk,  735. 
Baeda,  or  Bede,  to  whose  name  the  title  of  "  Vener- 
able "  was  affectionately  added  by  the  pupil  who  cut 
the  epitaph  above  his  master's  grave  at  Durham.  Bede 
was  born  near  Wearmouth,  on  the  Durham  coast.  An 
orphan,  seven  years  old,  he  entered  the  monastery  of 
St.  Peter's  to  study  for  the  priesthood,  and  two  or  three 
years  later  removed  to  the  associated  monastery  of  St. 


30  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

Paul's  at  Jarrow,  close  at  hand.  Here  he  remained 
for  the  rest  of  his  life,  devoted  to  his  study  and  the 
composition  of  his  numerous  works  in  Latin.  Jarrow 
possessed  at  this  time  one  of  the  best  libraries  in  Eu- 
rope, and  Bede  himself  was  famous  over  Christendom 
for  his  learning-  and  his  books.  Six  hundred  pupils 
listened  to  the  instruction  of  this  scholar  and  assisted 
him  in  his  work.  He  wrote  books  on  grammar,  mathe- 
matics, and  natural  science,  commentaries  on  the 
Scriptures,  lives  of  the  saints,  church  history,  treatises 
on  philosophy,  and,  besides  other  works,  made  metrical 
versions  of  the  Psalms.  "  I  wholly  applied  myself  to 
the  study  of  Scripture,"  says  Bede,  "  and  amidst  the 
observance  of  regular  discipline,  and  the  daily  care  of 
singing-  in  the  church,  I  always  took  delight  in  learn- 
ing, teaching,  and  writing."  His  most  important  work 
is  the  Historia  Ecclesiastica,  an  ecclesiastical  or  church 
history  of  Britain.  It  is  here  that  we  find  the  account 
of  Caednion  and  his  dream.  But  the  forty-odd  Latin 
works  of  this  pious  scholar  are  not  the  occasion  of  so 
much  interest  as  is  the  single  text,  unhappily  lost,  pro- 
duced by  Bede  in  his  own  vernacular,  —  a  translation 
of  the  Gosjjel  of  St.  John.  This  was  Bede's  last 
work  ;  coincidently  with  its  completion  came  his  death. 
One  of  the  brothers  in  the  monastery,  Cuthbert,  rever- 
ently records  the  manner  of  the  end.  "  He  passed  the 
day  joyfully  till  the  evening,  when  his  scribe  said, 
'  Dear  master,  there  is  yet  one  sentence  not  written.' 
He  answered,  '  Write  quickly.'  Soon  after,  the  boy 
said,  'The  sentence  is  now  written.'  He  replied,  'It 
is  well ;  you  have  said  the  truth.  It  is  ended.'  And 
soon  thereafter  he  breathed  his  last." 

In  the  time  of  Bede,  and  for  a  century  thereafter, 
Scholarship  Anglo-Saxon  scholarship  was  preeminent  in 
in  England.    ]/lllope-    The  English  monasteries  were  many 


KING  ALFRED  31 

of  them  famous  for  their  libraries  of  manuscripts,  and 
as  resorts  for  scholastic  training.  Bede's  Latin  treat- 
ises were  copied  by  hundreds,  and  were  employed  as 
text-books  in  the  monastic  schools  of  Italy  and  France. 
Alcuin,  who  accepted  in  782  the  invitation  of  Charle- 
magne to  take  charge  of  the  Palace  School,  estab- 
lished by  the  great  king  of  all  the  Franks,  was  first  a 
studious  monk  in  the  school  of  the  monastery  at  York, 
and  then  a  noted  teacher  in  that  community.  He 
was  a  pupil  of  Egbert,  Archbishop  of  York,  who  had 
founded  an  excellent  school  at  the  suggestion  of  Bede 
himself,  and  like  the  venerable  scholar  of  Jarrow  en- 
tered the  monastery  in  childhood  perhaps  under  sim- 
ilar circumstances.  The  record  of  Alcuin's  career 
places  him  in  the  period  immediately  following  that 
of  Bede,  and  the  date  of  that  great  teacher's  death, 
735,  has  even  been  suggested  as  the  probable  date  of 
Alcuin's  birth.  In  the  next  century  another  English 
scholar,  of  either  Welsh  or  Irish  birth,  John  Scotus  Eri- 
gena,  occupied  at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald  a  posi- 
tion similar  to  the  one  maintained  by  Alcuin  at  the 
court  of  Charlemagne. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  ninth  century  began  those 
formidable  incursions  of  the  Danes  which  Alfred, 
continued  through  several  generations,  the  848"901- 
most  grievous  affliction  ever  visited  upon  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  kin.  As  they  pillaged  and  harried  the  north 
country,  learning  and  culture  died  or  fled  before  them. 
Whitby  and  Jarrow,  with  the  other  monasteries  of  the 
north,  were  relentlessly  destroyed,  and  the  literary  su- 
premacy of  Northumberland  was  naturally  at  an  end. 
Now,  for  almost  the  first  time,  the  south  kingdom  of 
the  Saxons  finds  a  place  in  the  records  of  our  literature, 
and  now  the  name  of  iElfred,  or  Alfred,  "  England's 
Comfort,"   "  England's  Darling,"   as  he  was  lovingly 


32  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

called  by  those  who  knew  what  he  wrought,  becomes 
prominently  associated  with  the  development  of  our 
English  speech  and  the  beginnings  of  our  English 
prose.  His  courageous  defense  of  his  people  against 
an  almost  irresistible  onset,  and  the  difficult  achieve- 
ment of  uniting  a  disordered  folk  into  an  actual  nation, 
were  perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  among  his  many 
services  to  his  race  ;  the  value  of  his  labors  in  establish- 
ing and  in  reforming  the  Church  should  not  be  over- 
looked ;  but  in  his  wise  and  vigorous  efforts  to  instruct 
his  people,  and  to  encourage  learning  throughout  the 
land,  Alfred  revealed  his  sagacity  as  well  as  his  great- 
ness of  character. 

"  I  have  often  recalled,"  says  Alfred  in  his  preface 
His  Love  of  to  the  translation  of  Gregory's  Pastoral 
Learning.  Care.  "  what  learned  men  there  were  in  En<r- 
land  formerly,  both  theologians  and  teachers  of  secular 
learning ;  and  what  happy  times  those  were  in  Eng- 
land .  .  .  and  also  how  eager  the  clergy  were  to  teach 
and  study  and  to  discharge  all  their  duties ;  and  how 
foreigners  sought  out  our  island  for  wisdom  and  in- 
struction's sake  ;  and  how  now  we  must  betake  our- 
selves elsewhere  if  we  would  possess  it.  So  extreme 
is  the  case  in  England  now,  that  there  were  very  few 
south  of  the  Humber  who  could  understand  the  ritual 
in  English,  or  translate  a  Latin  letter  ;  and  I  believe 
that  there  were  not  many  north  of  the  Humber.  So 
few  of  these  were  there  that  I  do  not  think  there  was 
a  single  one  south  of  the  Thames  (i.  e.  in  Wessex) 
who  could  do  it  when  I  came  to  the  throne.  God  be 
thanked  that  we  now  have  some  beginning  of  learning 
among  us,  and  therefore  I  command  that  thou  use  — 
as  I  believe  thou  wilt  —  thy  authority  in  this  as  often 
as  thou  mayest,  and  that  thou  impart  the  wisdom  God 
hath  given  thee  whenever  thou  hast  opportunity.  .  .   . 


ALFRED'S  TRANSLATIONS  33 

Therefore  I  think  it  well,  if  thou  thinkest  as  I  do, 
that  we  take  those  books  which  there  is  most  need  all 
men  should  know,  and  turn  them  into  the  speech  which 
we  all  understand,  and  so  bring  it  about,  as  we  may 
with  God's  grace,  if  we  have  peace,  that  all  the  youth 
now  in  England,  free  men,  that  have  property,  may 
apply  themselves  uninterruptedly  to  learning,  —  so 
long  as  they  take  up  no  other  occupation  or  employ- 
ment, —  until  they  are  able  to  read  English  with  ease. 
.  .  .  Thus  I  began,  among  the  various  and  manifold 
duties  of  this  kingdom,  to  translate  into  English  the 
book  which  is  called  in  Latin  Pastoralis,  or  Shep- 
herd's Book  in  English,  sometimes  word  for  word, 
sometimes  meaning  for  meaning,  just  as  I  learned  of 
Plegmund,  my  archbishop,  and  of  Asser,  my  bishop, 
and  of  Grimbold,  my  masspriest,  and  of  John,  my  mass- 
priest.  After  I  had  studied  so  that  I  understood,  and 
could  get  at  the  true  meaning,  I  translated  this  work 
into  English;  and  to  every  bishop's  see  in  my  king- 
dom I  will  send  a  copy." 

In  no  half-hearted  way  did  the  king  execute  this 
self-appointed  task.    He  restored  the  old  sys-  Transla. 
tern  of  instruction  in  the  monasteries,  turned   tionsirom 
his  own  court  into  a  school,  of  which  he  was 
himself  the  master,  invited  scholars  of  renown  to  settle 
in  his  kingdom,  and  made  his  capital  of  Winchester 
the  centre  of  learning  and  literary  activity  in  Eng- 
land.    Not  only  his  interest  in  literature,  but  also  his 
rare  good  sense,  is  shown  in  the  selection  of  the  numer- 
ous works  which  he  caused  to  be  put  into  the  English 
tongue.      The   Consolations  of  Philosophy,  an  excel- 
lent treatise  by  Boethius,  a  consul  of  Rome  in  the  year 
510,  and  one  who  certainly  merits  all  the  honor  implied 
in  his  title,  "  last  of  the  Philosophers  ; "  a  universal 
History  by  Orosius,  a  Spanish  scholar  and  a  Chris- 


34  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

tian  of  the  fifth  century ;  Bede's  Ecclesiastical  His- 
ton/,  and  Pope  Gregory's  Pastoral  Care,  are  the  most 
important  of  the  translations  which  Alfred  caused  to 
be  made.  The  mark  of  his  own  originality  is  in  them 
all ;  here  he  omits  a  portion  of  no  particular  value  to 
his  readers,  here  he  adds  a  passage,  sometimes  of  con- 
siderable length,  concerning  matters  of  importance  with 
which  he  is  acquainted  ;  the  constant  purpose  to  in- 
struct and  benefit  his  people  is  everywhere  evident. 
From  Alfred's  schools  went  forth  many  scholars  who 
became  teachers  noted  in  their  time.     Latin 

A  ftlTTlfl 

955  ?- '  continued  to  be  the  language  used  in  literary 
composition,  as  it  remained  in  large  degree  the 
spoken  language  of  the  literary  class.  Near  the  end  of 
the  tenth  century,  however,  iElfric,  Abbot  of  Enshara, 
following  the  example  of  Alfred,  wrote  in  the  native 
tongue.  His  most  interesting  work  is  a  Latin  Gram- 
mar and  a  Glossary  which  supplies  the  equivalents  of 
many  Anglo-Saxon  words.  He  also  wrote  a  collection  of 
Homilies  which  had  wide  circulation.  Of  these  there 
were  two  series,  each  containing  forty  discourses,  one 
series  presenting  the  lives  of  saints  recognized  by  the 
Anglo-Saxon  Church.  A  translation  of  the  Pentateuch 
and  the  book  of  Job  is  included  in  ^Elfric's  works. 

The  influence  of  Alfred  the  Great  appears  in  very 
TXe  practical  form  in  the  compilation  of  the  An- 

chronicie.  glo- Saxon  Chronicle.  Begun  under  the  di- 
rection of  Alfred,  the  record  of  previous  events  in  the 
history  of  Britain,  from  the  period  of  Roman  invasion 
down  to  his  own  time,  was  compiled  from  the  History 
of  Bede  and  the  works  of  other  chroniclers.  The  work 
was  then  continued  contemporaneously  down  to  the 
death  of  Stephen  in  1154.  It  is  supposed  that  local 
records  were  kept  at  the  several  monasteries  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  England,  which  were  sent  to  some  official 


THE   NATION  35 

chronicler  who  compiled  from  them  a  condensed  sum- 
mary of  the  year's  events.  These  terse  annals,  trust- 
worthy at  least  in  those  portions  recorded  by  contem- 
porary writers,  picturesque  in  spite  of  their  brevity, 
plain,  unadorned,  straightforward,  constitute  the  orig- 
inal authority  on  early  English  history,  and  at  the 
same  time  form  our  most  interesting-  monument  of 
Anglo-Saxon  prose.  As  we  have  seen,  at  rare  intervals 
the  historian  assumes  the  gleeman's  character,  and  ad- 
mits some  metrical  narrative  like  those  of  Brunnan- 
burh  and  Maldon.  For  the  larger  part  the  Chronicle 
reads  like  this  :  — 

"  871.  Now  came  Alfred,  son  of  iEthelwulf,  to  the 
rule  of  the  West  Saxons,  and  in  about  one  month 
thereafter,  Alfred  the  king  fought  against  the  entire 
Danish  army  with  a  little  force  of  English  at  Wilton, 
and  for  a  good  part  of  the  day  routed  them  ;  yet  the 
Danes  remained  masters  of  the  field.  And  during  this 
year  there  were  nine  battles  fought  with  the  enemy 
in  this  kingdom  south  of  the  Thames ;  besides  which 
Alfred,  the  king's  brother,  and  various  aldermen  and 
thanes  of  the  king  rode  on  raids,  of  which  no  account 
was  kept.  And  during  the  year  there  were  slain  nine 
earls  and  one  king  ;  and  in  this  year  the  West  Saxons 
made  peace  with  the  Danes." 

IV.  THE  NATION  AND  THE  LANGUAGE. 

Thus  far  the  record  of  our  literary  life  has  dealt 
with  the  productions  of  a  strongly  individual-  TheNa. 
ized  race.  Different  divisions  of  the  people  tion- 
employed  forms  that  varied  in  details  of  pronunciation, 
in  grammatical  inflection,  and  to  some  extent  in  vocab- 
ulary ;  but  their  language  was  essentially  the  same. 
As  always  happens  where  a  race  is  divided  by  sectional 
lines,  there  were  clearly  defined  dialects  distinguishing 


36  THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 

the  people  of  the  north,  the  people  of  the  midland, 
and  those  of  the  south ;  yet  the  spirit  of  a  single  race 
spoke  in  the  literature  of  these  different  sections  ;  the 
poetry  of  Northumbria  and  the  prose  of  Wessex  exhib- 
ited the  characteristics  of  a  single  if  not  a  united  folk. 
The  literary  supremacy  of  the  Angles  early  fixed  the 
use  of  the  word  Englisc,  as  applied  to  language  and 
literature,  and  although,  when  later  that  supremacy 
passed  to  the  Saxons  of  Wessex  along  with  the  polit- 
ical predominance  in  the  kingdom,  all  that  we  possess 
of  Northumbrian  literature  was  reproduced  in  the  form 
of  speech  peculiar  to  the  West  Saxons,1  the  words 
English  and  England  were  accepted  by  the  southern 
folk  as  identifying  their  nation  and  their  land. 

The  Anglo-Saxon  speech  had  not  borrowed  much 
TheLan-  from  foreign  sources.  A  few  verbal  relics  of 
guage.  £he  early  Roman  occupation  have  been  cited.2 

Not  many  Cymric  or  Gaelic  terms,  apparently,  were 
thus  early  introduced  ;  those  now  common  in  our  lan- 
guage were  almost  all  absorbed  in  later  association 
with  the  Scotch,  the  Irish,  and  the  Welsh.  Geo- 
graphical names  do  frequently  preserve  the  more 
ancient  Celtic  form  :  such  are  Avon  and  Esh,  with  the 
variant  forms  of  Usk,  Ux,  and  Ox,  all  meaning  water, 
occurring  in  place-names  like  Exeter,  Uxbridge,  and 
Oxford ;  Avon  and  Esk  appear  as  the  names  of  rivers 
in  different  parts  of  England.  Pen  (mountain)  is 
also  common.  The  suffix  comb  (hollow,  valley)  is 
seen  in  names  like  Hascombe  and  Ilolcomb.  Other 
Celtic   loan-words    found    in    Anglo-Saxon    are    down 

1  This  fact  should  be  emphasized.  All  extent  manuscripts,  except  a 
few  unimportant  records,  date  from  the  time  of  Alfred  or  later ;  our 
texts  of  Cfedmon  and  his  followers,  of  Cynewulf,  and  later  Northum- 
brian poets,  even  the  single  manuscript  of  Beowulf,  are  all  in  West 
Saxon  dialect,  copies  of  the  originals  which  disappeared  during  the 
Danish  wars. 

2  See  page  3. 


THE   LANGUAGE  37 

(hill),  dun  (the  color),  mattock,  and  slozigh.  The  con- 
version of  the  Anglo-Saxons  brought  a  great  number  of 
Latin  words,  some  of  them  Greek  originally,  into  the 
English.  The  word  church  (A.-S.  cyrice,  Grk.  kyria- 
hon),  together  with  the  large  vocabulary  connected  with 
the  officers  and  functions  of  the  Church,  was  thus  added 
to  our  language.  Such,  for  example,  were  the  words 
biscop  (L.  episcopus),  munuc  (monacJius),  preost 
(presbyter),  deqfol  (diabolus),  candel  (candela), 
mynstre,  (monasterium) ,  martyr  (Grk.  martyr,  a  wit- 
ness), and  very  many  others.  From  the  Danes'  speech 
many  words  found  their  way  into  the  spoken  language  ; 
they  came  more  slowly  into  literary  English.  The 
endings  -by,  -thorp,  -thwaite,  -toft,  occurring  in  many 
names  of  places  like  Whitby,  Grimsby,  Somersby, 
Althorp,  Brathwaite,  and  Lowestoft,  have  the  mean- 
ing of  village  or  town.  These  names  are  especially 
numerous  in  the  eastern  part  of  Yorkshire  and  Lincoln- 
shire, in  the  region  formerly  known  as  the  Danelagh, 
where  the  Danes  had  their  settlements.1 

From  now  on  the  language  of  England  develops  a 
more  composite  character  as  a  new  race,  that  of  the 
Normans,  finds  a  place  for  itself  in  this  island  king- 
dom ;  more  rapidly  than  before  the  English  speech 
absorbs  important  elements  from  another  people,  and 
we  are  brought  to  a  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  Eng- 
lish literature,  passing  into  what  is  often  called  the 
Middle  English  Period. 

The  history  of  early  England  has  been  admirably  told  by 
J.  R.  Green  in  his  Making  of  England,  his  Con-   Book  Notes 
quest  of  England,  and  his  Short  History  of  the   ^gge^.  7 
English  People.    Freeman's  Old  English  History   tions. 
is  an  authority,  and  Sharon  Turner's  History  of  the  Anglo- 

1  The  relations  of  these  various  peoples  to  each  other  and  their  com- 
mon descent  from  the  great  Aryan  stock  which  peopled  the  continent 
of  Europe  is  shown  in  the  following  table. 


. 


-A 
O 
> 
< 
►J 

o 

CO 


o 

H 
P 

w 
E-" 


d 
.2    • 


<5 


= 

o 

3 

-r 

-I, 

i. 

-= 

X 

si 

& 

-r 

f- 

= 

o> 

o 

e« 

I. 

r— ' 

fc 

~ 

►J 

W 


- 
w 

H 

/ 

(3 


44 

ctf 

a> 

- 

- 

- 

- 

6 

_! 

: 

~, 

~ 

I 

~- 

a 

a 

a, 

co 


STUDY   SUGGESTIONS  39 

Saxons  is  particularly  useful  as  a  study  of  life  and  man- 
ners. 

Ten  Brink's  History  of  English  Literature,  vol.  i.,  Stop- 
ford  Brooke's  Early  English  Literature,  also  his  English 
Literature  from  the  Beginning  to  the  Norman  Conquest, 
and  the  first  two  volumes  of  Henry  Morley's  English  Writ- 
ers, are  authorities  upon  Anglo-Saxon  literature. 

Beginnings  of  English  Literature,  by  C.  M.  Lewis  (Ginn), 
includes  the  period  covered  here. 

Numerous  translations  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  are  given 
by  both  Brooke  and  Morley.  In  the  English  Writers,  vol. 
ii.,  are  Widsith  and  the  Seafarer,  entire ;  the  Seafarer 
and  the  Wanderer  are  translated  by  Brooke  in  the  Notes  at 
the  end  of  his  volume.  Beowulf  is  accessible  in  several 
versions,  of  which  that  by  James  M.  Garnett  (Ginn)  is  most 
faithful  to  the  spirit  of  the  original.  Professor  Garnett  has 
translated  also  Cynewulf 's  Elene  and  the  fragment  of  Judith, 
together  with  Brunnanburh  and  Maldon,  in  one  volume 
(Ginn).  Tbe  Christ  is  at  hand  in  an  excellent  prose  ren- 
dering by  Charles  H.  Whitman  (Ginn).  Albert  S.  Cook's 
edition  of  Judith  (Heath)  contains  a  translation  of  that  frag- 
ment. Tbe  Battle  of  Brunnanburh,  too,  is  found  among  the 
poems  of  Tennyson.  There  is  an  excellent  volume  of  Select 
Translations  from  Old  English  Poetry,  by  Cook  and 
Tinker  (Ginn). 

Bede's  account  of  the  poet  Caedmon,  and  Cuthbert's  nar- 
rative of  the  death  of  Bede,  also  Alfred's  preface  to  bis 
translation  of  Bede's  Cura  Pastoralis,  will  be  found  trans- 
lated, or  paraphrased,  by  Morley  in  his  English  Writers, 
vol.  ii.  Wulfstan's  narrative,  incorporated  by  Alfred  in  his 
translation  of  Orosius,  is  also  given  by  Morley.  Bede's 
Ecclesiastical  History  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle  are 
published  in  translation  by  Bohn.  A  Life  of  Alfred  the 
Great,  by  Thomas  Hughes,  is  published  by  Houghton, 
Mifflin  and  Company. 

Students  who  wish  to  begin  the  study  of  Anglo-Saxon  will 
find  available  text-books  in  Cook's  First  Book  in  Old  Eng- 
lish  (Ginn),  Bright's  Anglo-Saxon  Reader  (Holt),  Sweet's 


40 


THE   ANGLO-SAXON   PERIOD 


Anglo-Saxon  Primer,  and  Anglo-Saxon  Reader  (Clarendon 
Press).  Smith's  Old  English  Grammar  and  Exercise  Book 
(Allyn  &  Bacon)  is  an  excellent  introduction  to  the  study. 
A  series  of  important  texts  is  included  in  the  Library  of 
Anglo-Saxon  Poetry,  puhlished  by  Ginn  :  I.  Beowulf,  by 
Harrison  and  Sharp;  II.  Exodus  and  Daniel,  by  T.  W.  Hunt ; 
IV.  Maldon  and  Brunnanburh,  by  C.  L.  Crow ;  VI.  Elene, 
by  C.  "VV.  Kent.  The  Albion  Series  of  Anglo-Saxon  and 
Middle  English  Poetry  is  announced  by  the  same  house; 
Professor  A.  S.  Cook's  edition  of  the  Christ  has  already 
appeared.  The  Judith,  also  edited  by  Cook,  is  published  by 
Heath.  Particular  attention  is  directed  to  the  Millennial  Se- 
ries of  English  Classics  (Section  I.  Old  English  Literature), 
now  in  preparation  (Heath),  Edward  Miles  Brown,  general 
editor. 

The  History  of  the  English  Language,  by  O.  F.  Emer- 
son (Macmillan),  and  T.  R.  Lounsbury's  History  of  the 
English  Language  (Holt)  are  valuable  books.  For  general 
study  of  words,  Words  and  their  Ways  in  English  Speech, 
by  Greenough  and  Kittredge  (Macmillan),  is  recommended. 

The  development  of  Anglo-Saxon  literature  may  be  traced 
as  follows  (of  course  only  the  most  important  names  and 
titles  are  included)  :  — 


Historical  Events. 


Period  of  Roman  occupation 

(a.d.  78-410). 
Coming'  of  Ilengest  and  llorsa 

(449). 
Arrival  of  Augustine  (597). 


Ecg-berht,    King-    of    Wessex 

(802-39). 
Alfred  (871-901). 
Danish  kings  (1010-42). 

Battle  of  Hastings  (1066). 


Poetry. 


Widsith,  Deor\  La- 
ment and  Beowulf 
(previous  to  mi- 
gration). 

Ciedmon  (about 

664). 
Cynewulf  (about 

7--.0). 


Prose. 


Bede  (673-735). 


Alfred  (849-901). 
.Elfric  (955- 

1020). 
The  Chronicle 

(871-1154). 


CHAPTER  II 
THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

FROM  THE  BATTLE  OF  HASTINGS  TO  THE  DEATH  OP 

CHAUCER 

I.  The  New  Invasion. 
II.   The  Development  of  Middle  English  Literature. 

III.  The  Age  of  Chaucer. 

IV.  Geoffrey  Chaucer  :  Poet  of  the  Dawn. 

I.     THE    NEW    INVASION. 

When,  in  1066,  William  of  Normandy  led  his  vic- 
torious hosts  against  Harold  and  his  Saxons  TheNor- 
at  Senlac  near  Hastings,  a  new  epoch  be-  mans- 
gan  in  English  history.  The  Normans,  originally 
Teutons  like  the  English  themselves,  were  descendants 
of  those  Norse  pirates,  who,  under  Hrolf,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  tenth  century,  had  overrun  the  land  on 
either  side  the  mouth  of  the  Seine,  conquered  that  ter- 
ritory, and  in  the  course  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
developed  the  powerful  duchy  of  Normandy.  They 
were  a  bold,  keen  race,  vigorous  and  aggressive,  re- 
markable for  their  ability  in  assimilating  the  desirable 
qualities  of  the  conquered  people,  and  wonderfully  suc- 
cessful in  imparting  their  own  energy  to  their  new 
subjects.  They  adopted  the  modes  and  laws  of  the 
feudal  system ;  they  accepted  the  Christian  faith  ;  they 
were  foremost  in  promoting  the  courtly  rules  and  man- 
ners of  chivalry  ;  they  made  themselves  at  home  among 
the  Franks,  forgot  their  own  Norse  speech,  and  learned 


42 


THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 


the  French  tongue.  The  music  and  literature  of  France 
impressed  them  with  its  softer  measures.  At  the  great 
battle  which  gave  England  to  William,  Taillefer  the 
Norman  minstrel  led  the  vanguard,  tossing  his  sword 
in  the  air,  and  chanting  loudly  the  song  of  Roland,  the 
epic  of  the  Franks.  It  was  really  a  new  race,  combin- 
ing the  characteristics  of  Teuton  and  Celt,  which  thus 
won  its  footing  on  English  soil  —  the  Norman-French  ; 
it  represented  the  best  blood  and  the  highest  culture  of 
Europe,  and  its  influence  in  the  literature  of  England, 
as  well  as  in  its  life,  proved  an  incalculable  benefit  in 
the  generations  to  come.  For  a  hundred  years  after 
the  conquest  of  the  island  was  actually  completed,  the 
lines  between  the  conquerors  and  the  conquered  wrere 
rather  sharply  drawn.  There  were  two  races,  Norman 
and  English;  two  languages  side  by. side.  Yet  the 
natural  tendency  was  toward  assimilation,  and  in  the 
end  the  result  was  the  same  as  it  had  been  in  France  : 
the  native  tongue  triumphed  over  that  of  the  invader. 
The  Norman-French  became  Anglo-Norman,  and  finally 
English.  In  1350  the  English  language  was  used  in 
the  schools,  and  in  1362,  by  royal  decree,  Edward  III. 
made  it  the  official  language  for  courts  of  law.  But 
the  English  of  that  period  had  been  wonderfully  ex- 
panded and  enriched  by  the  elements  it  had  absorbed 
from  the  Norman-French  ;  its  vocabulary  settled  by 
the  usage  of  Wyclif  and  Chaucer,  its  inflections  gradu- 
ally i Modified  if  not  absolutely  lost,  it  thus  became  the 
basis  of  our  modern  speech.  With  reference  to  this 
epoch  in  the  history  of  our  language  it  is  customary 
to  designate  as  the  Middle  English  Period  the  three 
centuries  which  intervened  between  the  Conquest  and 
the  death  of  Chaucer,  although  throughout  the  twelfth 
century  the  literature  produced  was  almost  entirely  in 
Latin  or  in  Norman-French. 


I 


DEVELOPMENT   OF  MIDDLE   ENGLISH  43 

While  in  England  the  literary  spirit  had  languished 
since  the  death  of  Alfred,  it  had  flourished   Lltera. 
with  remarkable  energy  among  the  peoples  of   ture 
western  Europe.      In  the  romance  dialects  of  meNor- 
northern  and  southern  France,  indeed,  a  new  mans< 
literature  had  been  created,  a  literature  inspired  by  the 
institution  of  chivalry,  and   devoted   to  the  glory  of 
knighthood  and  the  praise  of  love.     The  French  trou- 
veres  were  just  beginning  to  compose  their  Chansons 
de  Gestes,  or  Songs  of  Deeds,  in  which  were  celebrated 
the  achievements  of  national  heroes  like  Charlemagne 
and  Roland.     Love  songs  and  tales  of  adventure  were 
finding   their    place    in    literature.      That   scholarshi 
.which  had  made  the  schools  and  abbeys  of    England 
famous  in  the  days  of  Bede  and  Alcuin,  and  had  been 
ruthlessly   blotted  out  in   the  harrying  ot  theDanes, 
had  blossomed  ao-a.jn  in  France,  where  Alcurtfliiniself 
had  sowed  the  seed  of  learning  at  the  court  of  Charle- 
magne.    At  the  time  of  the  Norman  invasion  French! 
monks  were  the  leaders  in  all  scholastic  and  ecclesias- 
tical learning ;  for  a  generation  before  that  event  Eng- 
lish students  had  been  flocking  to  France  as  the  centre 
of  European  culture,  and  young  English  priests  betook 
themselves  to  the  great  monastic  school  at  Bee,  to  learn 
wisdom  at  the  feet  of  Lanfranc  and  Anselm. 

\      II.    THE     DEVELOPMENT    OF    MIDDLE    ENGLISH     LITERA- 
TURE. 

The  latter  part  of  King  William's  life  was  occupied 
in  completing  the  conquest  which  gave  him 
his  title  in  history.     Here  and  there  over  the   of  Ro- 
land arose  the  massive,  square  Norman  castles  mance- 
of  the  barons.     The  monasteries  were  ruled  by  Nor- 
r.ian  monks.     Lanfranc  was  made  Archbishop  of  Can- 
^erbur}^  and  at  his  death  was  succeeded  by  Anselm. 


\ 


44  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

The  literary  works  of  ecclesiastics  were  in  the  Latin 
tongue,  but  the  literature  of  France  held  its  place  at 
court  and  in  the  great  halls  of  the  barons.  The  English 
gleeman  now  gave  place  to  the  Norman  minstrel,  and 
tales  of  French  heroes,  sung  in  the  foreign  tongue,  were 
heard  in  the  banqueting  halls  of  the  nobles.  Strange 
stories  of  Charlemagne  and  his  twelve  paladins,  abound- 
ing in  the  reports  of  jousts  and  battles,  of  tricks  and 
cunning  ;  the  adventures  of  Grecian  Alexander,  too  ; 
tales  of  the  Trojan  War  ;  and  numerous  other  themes, 
many  of  them  borrowed  from  the  East,  formed  the 
subjects  of  trouvere  and  jongleur,  and  kept  their  places 
through  long  years  to  come.  Very  nearly  related  to/  / 
English  scenes,  and  yet  an  importation  from  the  poetry 
of  France,  were  the  traditionary  romances  of  King 
Arthur  and  his  Knights  of  the  Table  Round.  The 
most  important  and  indeed  the  immediate  effect  of  this 
Norman-French  influence  upon  our  own  English  litera- 
ture was  seen  in  the  revival  during  the  twelfth  and 
thirteenth  centuries  of  an  interest  in  the  deeds  of  Eng- 
lish heroes  and  the  traditions  native  to  English  soil. 
This  interest  speedily  manifested  itself  in  the  similar 
treatment  of  English  themes  by  Norman  poets  in  Nor- 
man-French, and  a  little  later,  a  treatment  of  these 
themes  in  English  speech ;  for  by  that  time  the  Eng- 
lish spirit  and  the  English  language  had  proved  stronger 
than  the  Norman,  and  had  prevailed.  The  deeds  of 
Hereward  the  Saxon  had  been  told  in  Latin,  and  then  in 
Norman  verse ;  English  minstrels  now  entertained  the 
court.  Similarly  also,  the  adventures  of  Guy  of  War- 
wick and  Bevis  of  Hampton,  local  heroes  of  tradition, 
were  sung  by  Anglo-Norman  poets,  and  then  in  the  Eng- 
lish tongue.  An  important  element  of  Norman-French 
poetry  is  found  in  the  treatment  of  these  English 
themes.     This  is  the  element  of  love.     The  old  Saxons 


KING   HORN  45 

in  their  rude  way  had  sung  of  battle  and  of  beauty  ; 
but  while  tales  of  adventure  and  daring  had  been  told, 
never  a  word  had  been  uttered  of  the  tenderer  passion 
of  love  ;  there  had  been  no  recognition  of  woman's  subtle 
power  in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  men,  until  the  Nor- 
man poets  had  introduced  their  forms  of  courtly  gal- 
lantry, had  sung  the  devotion  of  knight  to  lady,  and  had 
spoken  of  the  rewards  of  love.  Among  the  earliest  of 
our  English  poems  to  reflect  this  influence  of  the 
French  are  the  three  metrical  romances  of  Sir  Tris- 
tram, Havelok  the  Dane,  and  King  IIor?il  which  ap- 
parently belong  to  the  latter  part  of  the  thirteenth 
century. 

"  Alle  beonhi  blithe 
That  to  mi  song  lithe  ! 
A  song  ihc  schal  you  singe 
Of  Murry  the  kinge," 

is  the  quaint  beginning  of  this  last-named  poem.  Murry 
is  king  of  South  Daneland  ;  his  queen  is  King 
Godhild  ;  they  have  an  only  son,  whose  name  Horn- 
is  Horn.  One  day  the  sea-robbers  —  Saracens,  the  poem 
calls  them  —  descend  upon  King  Murry' s  shores,  the 
king  is  slain,  his  queen  driven  into  hiding,  and  Horn, 
his  son,  with  twelve  comrades  is  taken  prisoner.  But 
the  rare  beauty  of  the  youths  excites  the  pity  of  the 
pagan  leader,  and  instead  of  putting  them  to  the  sword, 
their  captors  place  the  boys  in  a  boat  and  set  them 
adrift  on  the  open  sea.  Miraculously  the  waves  drive 
the  ship  to  Westernesse,  where  King  Ailmar  adopts 
Horn  and  provides  for  his  education.  Horn  grows  in 
favor  with  all  men,  but  most  of  all  he  is  loved  by  the 
king's  daughter,  Maiden  Rymenhild.  Now  the  early 
comrades  of  the  young  prince  are  still  in  his  company, 
and  two  of  them  are  especially  connected  with  the  fate 
and  fortunes  of  Childe  Horn :  one  is  Athulf ,  his  trusty 


16  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

friend  ;  the  other  Fikenhild,  who  is  a  traitor.  By  the 
treachery  of  this  latter,  Ailmar  is  deceived,  and  Horn 
is  banished  from  the  land.  New  adventures,  new  wan- 
derings follow ;  at  last  Horn  arrives  in  Ireland,  and 
becomes  King  Thurston's  man.  For  seven  years  he 
remains  in  Ireland  a  banished  man,  but  always  faith- 
ful to  his  love.  Meanwhile  King  Modi  of  Reynes  sues 
for  the  hand  of  Maiden  Rymenhild  ;  Ailmar  assents,  and 
the  wedding-day  is  set.  Rymenhild  and  Athulf  send  a 
messenger  to  search  for  Horn  and  to  warn  him  to  re- 
turn. Horn  is  found  in  time,  arrives  in  Westernesse 
on  the  day  of  the  marriage,  attends  the  feast  disguised 
as  a  pilgrim,  and  in  dramatic  fashion  expels  the  in- 
truder, and  claims  his  own.  But  the  course  of  true 
love  does  not  yet  run  smoothly.  Horn  departs  again, 
now  to  claim  his  rights  in  his  home  in  Daneland. 
This  he  succeeds  in  doing,  and  discovers  his  mother, 
Queen  Godhild,  still  alive.  Again  word  comes  from 
the  bride  in  haste ;  Rymenhild  is  once  more  in  mortal 
peril,  —  this  time  at  the  hands  of  the  traitor  Fikenhild. 
Again  Horn  returns,  rescues  his  betrothed,  and  all 
ends  joyously  with  the  wedding  and  a  happy  return  to 
South  Daneland,  where  Horn  is  king. 

The  love  story  has  now  become  an  element  in  Eng- 
lish literature.  It  is  the  very  kernel  in  the  romance 
of  King  Horn,  although  oddly,  as  it  seems  to  us,  the 
heroine  woos  the  hero,  and  Horn  is  far  too  passive  a 
lover  to  suit  the  Rymenhilds  of  a  later  day. 

Along  with  these  metrical  romances,  there  were  cir- 
FoikRo-  dilating  in  popular  form  during  the  twelfth, 
mance.  thirteenth,   and  fourteenth  centuries  numer- 

ous shorter  works^rn  both  verse  and  prose.  Collections 
of  short  stories,  like  the  Gesta  liomanorum  and  the 
Process,  of  the  Seven  Sages,  were  translated  into  Eng- 
lish.    Short    metrical    tales  were    numerous,  the  best 


THE   CHRONICLES  47 

gradually  appearing-  in  the  early  ballads,  and  reappear- 
ing again  and  again  in  versions  slightly  different,  the 
almost  mysterious  creations  of  the  nameless  poets  of 
the  people.  Truly,  they  who  told  the  tales  and  sang 
the  gestes  of  Robin  Hood  will  never  fail  of  recogni- 
tion, even  though  their  names  are  lost  in  the  dimness 
of  obscurity.  By  far  the  most  noteworthy  of  these 
early  romances,  however,  are  those  which  embalm  th(i 
^traditions  and  legends  of  King  Arthur.  The  knightly 
exploits  of  Arthur's  followers,  the  stories  of  courtly 
love  and  of  lawless  passion,  mystical  tales  of  adventure. 
in  search  of  the  Holy  Grail,  —  these  themes  won  all  the 
greater  interest  and  attention  because  they  centred 
around  a  national  hero  who  had  found  a  home  in 
Wales.  Chretien  de  Troyes  and  German  Wolfram 
had  likewise  sung  the  Grail  saga,  but  English  stoxy.- 
tellers  claimed,  and  have  since  claimed,  blameless  King 
Arthur  as  their  own. 

Nearly  akin  to  these  metrical  romances  and  epic  nar- 
ratives were  the  rhyming  chronicles  of  the  Th0 
twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries.  As  we  have  Chroni- 
seen,  the  great  prose  Chronicle  commenced 
in  Alfred's  time  was  continued  by  monkish  annalists 
down  to  the  death  of  Stephen  in  1154 ;  but  the  compo- 
sitions of  these  later  chroniclers  were  of  an  entirely 
different  sort,  and  present  a  curious  mingling  of  histor- 
ical record  and  romantic  tradition.  The  story  of  their 
evolution  is  similar  to  that  of  the  romances  already  de- 
scribed, and  they  developed  coincidently  with  the  latter. 
The  most  important  of  these  works  is  Layamon's  Brut, 
a  long  narrative  poem  of  32,000  lines,  in  the  old  allit- 
erative metre  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry,  spirited  and 
rugged,  reminding  one  not  a  little  of  Csedmon's  vigor- 
ous verse.  Layamon  was  an  English  priest  living  in 
Worcestershire.     "  He  dwelt  at  Earnley,"  he  tells  us, 


\ 


48  THE   ANCxLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

"  a  noble  church  on   the  bank  of  Severn,  near  Rad- 
stone,  where  he  read  books.     It  came  in  mind  to  him 
and  in  his  chiefest  thought  that  he  would  tell  the  noble 
deeds   of  England,   what  the   men   were    named,   and 
whence  they  came,  who  first  had  English  land  after  the 
flood."     Layamon's  poem  was  written  near  the  begin- 
ning of  the  thirteenth  century ;  but  it  was  not  alto- 
gether an  original  work.     Among  the  books  which  this 
English  priest  had  read  at  Earnley  were  the  histories 
of  Bede  and  Albinus,  and  one  which  was  itself  entitled 
Brut,  composed  in  French  verse  by  Wace,  a  Norman 
trouvere ;  this  poem  Layamon  translated,  incorporat- 
ing it  in  his  larger  work.     Wace  in  turn  had  appro- 
priated his  material  from  still  earlier  tales  which  had 
been  circulating  in  France ;  but  the  original  work  to 
which  both  Layamon  and  Wace  were  most  indebted 
!  was  a  so-called  Historia  Regum  Britannice,  or  His- 
tory of  the  Kings  of  Britain,  which  was  written  in 
Latin  prose  by  Geoffrey  of   Monmouth  in  1147.     In  1 
this  work  Geoffrey  assumes  to  give  the  history  of  Brit-    \ 
ain  from  the  time  when  Brutus,  the  great-grandson  of 
Aeneas,  landed  on  its  shores  and  gave  his  name  to  the 
island  kingdom  which  he  founded.      Geoffrey  was  a 
Welsh  priest  at  the  court  of  Henry  I.,  and  died  Bishop 
of  St.  Asaph  in  1154.     The  remarkable  imagination  of 
this  author  provoked  the  ire  of  other  chroniclers,  who 
declared  that  he  had  "  lied  saucily  and  shamelessly  ;  " 
but  along  with  its    fictions   the  "  history  "   preserved 
many  ancient  Welsh  traditions,  which  Geoffrey  may 
have  believed.     At  all  events,  he  gave  to  the  world  a 
wonderful  story  book,  from  which  have  passed  into  lit- 
erature such  characters  as  Locrine  and  Gorbuduc,  King 
Arthur,  Cymbeline,  and  Lear.     Thus,  then,  do  we  trace 
the  fortunes  of  this  work  :   Geoffrey  completed  his  His- 
tory in  Latin    in   1147,  Wace    produced    iiis    French" 


[ 


SIR  JOHN   MANDEVILLE  49 

version  of  the  Fjrv*  iri  11t;tVi  OTH  in  1205.  or  thereabout, 
Layamon  incorporated  the  work  of  his  predecessor  in 
"~  his  own  great  English  poem.  The  significance  of  its 
title  is  now  obvious  ;  it  is  the  epic  of  Brutus  and  his 
successors  in  the  land.  Layamon's  work  is  of  consid- 
erable importance.  Here  is  a  true  English  poet  draw- 
ing  his  material  from  Norman  and  Celt,  celebrating  the 
deeds  not  of  Englishmen,  but  of  Britons,  appropriating 
their  glory  for  the  glory  of  England,  and  tacitly  ac- 
cepting conditions  as  they  are.  The  poem  is  purely 
English";  few  French  words  are  found  in  its  32,000 
lines.  It  is  the  best  product  of  English  poetry  since 
Cynewulf's  time,  and  properly  represents  the  transition 
period  between  the  old  and  the  new. 

About  1300  Robert  of  Gloucester  wrote  a  rhymed 
■  Chronicle,  based  on  the  works  of  his  predecessors,  and 
covering  the  field  of  English  history  from  the  time  of 
Brutus  down  to  the  reign  of  Edward  I.  And  a  few 
years  later  Robert  Manning  of  Brunne  wrote  such 
another  chronicle,  based  on  translations  of  Wace  and  a 
metrical  history  recently  composed  by  Peter  Langtoft, 
a  French  monk. 

Along  with  the  works  of  the  romantic  chroniclers  of 
the   fourteenth    century    may    very    well   be  sir  John 
placed  the  curious  volume  of  travels  ascribed  Mande- 
to  the  authorship  of    Sir  John  Mandeville.   ages  and 
The  reputed  author  of  the  book  declares  that  Travels> 
he  set  out  on  his  travels  on   Michaelmas  Day,  1322. 
He  claims  to  have  been  more  than  thirty  years  abroad, 
and  describes  the  lands,  their  peoples  and  customs  with 
all  the  realism  of  an  eye-witness.     He  tells  us  that  he 
first  wrote  his  account  in  Latin,  that  he  then  turned  it 
into  French,  and  then  again,  in   1356,  into   English. 
These  statements  have  in  time  been  disproved.     The 
work  may  indeed  have  been  a  collection  of  traveler's 


/ 


50  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

tales,  thus  brought  together  and  unified  by  the  author, 
who  seems  to  have  been  as  credulous  or  fully  as  im- 
aginative a  writer  as  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth.  At  all 
events,  "  Sir  John  "  produced  the  most  entertaining 
of  narratives.  Fascinating  indeed  these  travels  must 
have  been  to  the  readers  of  the  time,  for  of  no  book, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Scriptures,  can  more  manu- 
scripts be  found  dating  from  the  fourteenth  and  the 
beginning  of  the  fifteenth  centuries.  According  to 
Mandeville's  account,  Jerusalem  is  in  the  exact  middle 
of  the  earth,  "  as  may  be  proved  and  shown  there  by  a 
spear  which  is  fixed  in  the  earth  at  the  hour  of  mid- 
day, when  it  is  equinoctial,  which  gives  no  shadow  on 
any  side."  In  Egypt  he  hears  of  that  bird  called  the 
Phoenix,  of  which  there  is  but  one  in  the  world. 

"  It  comes  to  burn  itself  on  the  altar  of  the  temple  at  the 
end  of  five  hundred  years,  for  so  long  it  lives  ;  and  then  the 
priests  array  their  altar,  and  put  thereon  spices,  and  sulphur, 
and  other  things  that  will  burn  quickly,  and  the  Phoenix 
comes  and  burns  itself  to  ashes.  The  next  day  they  find  in 
the  ashes  a  worm  ;  and  the  second  day  after  they  find  a  bird, 
alive  and  perfect ;  and  the  third  day  it  flies  away.  This  bird 
is  often  seen  flying  in  those  countries.  It  is  somewhat  larger 
than  an  eagle,  and  has  a  crest  of  feathers  on  its  head  greater 
than  that  of  a  peacock  ;  its  neck  is  yellow,  its  beak  blue, 
and  its  wings  of  a  purple  color,  and  the  tail  is  yellow  and 
red." 

Most  marvelous  of  all  are  the  adventures  of  our  trav- 
eler in  the  realm  of  Prester  John,  the  great  emperor 
of  India.  Here  are  giants  twenty-eight  or  thirty  feet 
in  length  who  eat  men's  flesh;  evil  women  who  have 
precious  stones  in  their  eyes  with  which  they  slay  men 
by  a  look.  In  the  kingdom  of  Cathay  he  discovers 
a  people  who  have  but  one  eye,  which  is  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  forehead  ;  another  who  have  no  heads,  but 


V 


r 

/ 


wijiyji^t'  fcjtctff  turn 


^M  ecuza.n-]triir<? 


4 


\yuu 


1 


P1/*  between 3^  l/a^Co^onlen^e-mm^irebrJre-' 
j        ,    fain*      ^     ffo      *     -      .  * 

m,el<t   lairgc. -jpprj^ef  "/ bead 'Zyji&ixe- 

•^•f^e  rattle  k^f 


FACSIMILE   TAKEN   FROM   AN   ELEVENTH-CENTURY   MANUSCRIPT   CONTAIN- 
ING AN  ACCOUNT   OF   THE   WONDERS   OF   THE   EAST 

(This  work  is  found  largely  incorporated  in  the  so-called  Travels  of  Sir  John  Bfande- 
title,  and  these  illustrations  are  thus  recognized  as  the  inspiration  of  some  of  the 
marvels  described.     The  manuscript  is  in  the  British  Museum.) 


52  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

their  eyes  are  in  their  shoulders.  In  one  island  are 
people  who  have  the  face  all  flat,  without  nose  and 
without  mouth  ;  in  another  the  inhabitants  "  have  the 
lip  above  the  mouth  so  great  that  when  they  sleep  in 
the  sun  they  cover  all  the  face  with  their  lip."  But 
the  wonders  of  Mandeville's  narrative  are  too  numer- 
ous to  be  recorded  here.1 

The  earliest  known  manuscript  of  this  work  is  in 
French,  and  dated  1371.  It  was  not  translated  into 
English  until  the  beginning  of  the  next  century,  and 
that  translation  is  so  defective  as  to  preclude  the  pos- 
sibility of  any  connection  with  the  original  author. 
The  Travels  is  really  a  compilation  of  various  works  in 
several  languages,  which  supplied  a  mass  of  travelers' 
lore,  and  served  as  the  only  source  of  knowledge  con- 
cerning the  far-off,  mysterious  realms  of  the  East. 
Whether  or  not  there  ever  was  a  Sir  John  Mandeville 
we  do  not  know ;  but  the  book  which  stands  to  the 
credit  of  this  name  is  one  of  the  most  readable  and 
most  important  prose  works  of  its  time. 

A  distinct  class  of  literature  in  the  natural  English 

„     „  tongue  is  that  illustrated  by  the  Poema  Mo- 

Morallz-  =>  J . 

ingLitera-    rale,  or  Moral  Ode,  a  rhyming  poem,  found 

in  a  collection  of  homilies  which  date  from 

the  year  1160.2     The  Ode  is  itself  a  homily  in  which 

1   The  Voyages  and   Travels  of  Sir  John  Mandeville  is  to  be    had. 
edited  by  Henry  Morley,  in  CasseWs  National  Library,  for  ten  cents. 
'2  The  beginning  of  the  poem  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  Icli  em  elder  than  ich  wes  a  wintre  and  alore ; 
Ie  wselde  more  thanne  ic  dude ;  mi  wit  ah  to  ben  more  ! 
Wei  lance  ic  habbe  child  ibeon  a  weorde  end  ech  adede  ; 
Theh  ic  beo  awintre  eald,  to  yyng  i  eom  a  rede." 

It  may  be  rendered  thus :  — 

"  I  am  older  than  I  was,  in  winters  and  in  lore; 

I  \\  ield  more  power  than  I  did  ;  my  wit  ought  to  be  more  ! 
Too  long  1  have  been  but  a  child  in  word  and  eke  in  doing  ; 
Yet  though  1  am  in  winters  old,  too  young  I  am  in  choosing." 


MORALIZING  LITERATURE  53 

the  unknown  sermonizer  admonishes  his  reader  to  lay 
up  treasures  in  heaven.  Its  quaint  verses,  with  their 
pronounced  accentuation  and  regularly  recurring  end- 
rhymes,  an  innovation  borrowed  from  French  poetry, 
seem  to  have  been  very  popular,  as  numerous  copies  of 
the  poem  are  extant.  The  thirteenth  and  fourteenth 
centuries  produced  many  examples  of  this  moralizing 
literature.  The  so-called  Sayings  of  Alfred  were  com- 
piled apparently  about  1200.  Orm,  or  Ormin,  wrote 
the  religious  poem  which  he  called  the  Ormulum  in 
the  first  quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century.  Like  the 
Moral  Ode,  Orm's  poem  pleads  for  the  religious  life, 
and  in  plain,  blunt  English  terms  applies  the  lessons 
of  the  daily  service  of  the  Church.  It  was  a  work  of 
prodigious  length,  for  the  10,000  lines  which  have 
come  down  to  us  represent  but  a  tenth  part  of  the  en- 
tire poem.  Orm  was  of  Danish  descent,  and  lived  in 
that  part  of  England  which  had  been  occupied  by  the 
Danes.  His  language  was  the  dialect  of  the  Midland, 
and  shows  no  trace  of  Norman  influence.  Unlike  the 
author  of  the  Ode,  Orm  does  not  use  end-rhyme.  A 
curious  feature  of  his  work  is  the  fact  that  he  marked 
the  quantity  of  the  vowels  by  doubling  the  consonants 
after  short  vowels,  a  feature  of  considerable  value  to 
the  linguist.  The  first  line  of  his  preface  is  thus  writ- 
ten :  — 

"  Thiss  boc  is  nemmned  Ormulum  forrthi  thatt  Orm  itt  wrohhte." 
"  This  book  is  named  Ormulum  because  Orm  wrought  it." 

The  Ancren  Riwle,  or  Mule  of  the  Anchoresses, 
which  belongs  to  the  same  period  with  the  Ormulum,  is 
a  prose  work  compiled  by  some  unknown  writer  for  the 
guidance  of  three  young  women  in  Dorsetshire,  who 
had  retired  from  the  world  and  entered  on  the  life  of 
the  cloister.    It  is  in  the  southern  dialect,  and  is  inter- 


54  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

esting  not  alone  for  its  devout  naturalness  and  genuine 
Christian  spirit,  but  also  for  its  mingling  of  English 
with  Norman  words ;  it  is  a  good  example  of  the 
transition  period  in  southern  England.  The  later 
Genesis  and  Exodus  is  a  religious  poem  belonging  in 
the  middle  of  this  same  century. 

This  religious  literature  continued  to  flourish  through- 
out the  fourteenth  century.  The  titles  of  some  of  the 
more  important  works  will  in  themselves  be  sufficiently 
significant.  Many  of  these  works  have  their  genesis 
in  the  ecclesiastical  literature  of  the  Normans.  Thus 
in  1303  Kobert  Manning  of  Brunne  translated  a 
French  poem  under  the  title  of  Ilandlyng  Synne ; 
and  in  1340  a  prose  work  appeared  with  the  singu- 
lar title  Ayenbite  of  Imvyt,  which  would  have  more 
meaning  for  us  if  we  were  to  retranslate  it  by  words 
of  French  rather  than  of  Saxon  origin ;  the  Ayen- 
bite of  Imvyt  is  but  the  Remorse  of  Conscience  lit- 
erally expressed  in  the  native  tongue.  This  work  was 
in  prose,  but  about  the  same  year  Richard  Rolle  of 
Hampole  wrote  in  Latin,  and  in  Northumbrian  Eng- 
lish for  the  unlearned,  a  poem  called  the  Pricke  of 
Conscience.  Of  some  importance  also  is  the  Cursor 
Mundi,  a  metrical  version  of  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment, which  dates  from  about  1320. 

As  we  reach  the  latter  part  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
TheReii-  tury,  we  ^11(^  ourselves  practically  at  the  end 
giousRevt-  of  what  might  be  called  the  transition  period, 
Fourteenth  which  naturally  follows  the  mingling  of  the 
Century.  Normans  and  the  English.  Jfosidp  thp 
ri-vnio  of  ( xhnnppr  t.hrpp  names  of  prominencf  mppt  nnr 
eye:  those  of  Langland,  "NVyclif,  and  Gower.  The 
first  two  are  inseparably  connected  with  the  literature 
of  religion,  although  their  work  is  distinct  from  that 
of    the  ecclesiastics  who    had    preceded   them.      It  is 


PIERS   THE   PLOWMAN  55 

necessary  to  remember  that  at  the  beginning  of  the 
thirteenth  century  the  life  of  the  English  Church  had 
receired  an  extraordinary  impulse  through  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  mendicant  friars  who  entered  in  the 
train  of  the  Normans.  They  were  for  the  most  part 
men  of  devoted  life,  educated  in  French  schools,  and 
exerting  an  influence  that  was  generally  wholesome 
and  helpful.  But  as  time  passed  on  and  the  religious 
orders  acquired  wealth,  their  religious  life  degenerated, 
until  by  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century  they  had 
grown  hypocritical  as  well  as  proud.  Their  influence 
became  pernicious  and  a  source  of  evil  in  society.  In 
this  same  period  the  condition  of  the  common  people 
had  been  rendered  intolerable  by  the  results  of  war 
and  by  the  visitations  of  plague.  In  1349  the  Black 
Death  had  swept  through  the  kingdom.  Entire  dis- 
tricts had  been  depopulated.  In  their  wretchedness 
and  their  discontent,  it  was  natural  that  sober-minded 
men  of  the  common  class  should  turn  to  religion  for 
relief.  Then  it  was  that  that  singular  character,  Wil- 
liam Langland,  with  his  tall,  gaunt  figure,  with  his 
contempt  for  pride  and  wealth,  appeared  in  London. 
In  1362   Langland  first  wrote  his   Vision  of  Piers 

the  Plox&man.    This  was  an  allegory  or  dream,  _. 

&      J  '    Piers  the 

which  the  poet  declares  came  to  him  while  Piow- 
asleep  one  May  morning  by  the  side  of  a 
brook  among  the  Malvern  Hills.  In  his  vision  Piers 
finds  "a  fair  field  full  of  folk"  of  all  manner  of  men, 
poor  and  rich  together.  Some  are  sweating  at  the 
plough,  others  wasting  inordinately  their  substance  in 
gluttony  and  lust.  He  beholds  the  Tower  of  Truth, 
and  also  the  Dungeon  of  Falsehood  ;  typical  characters 
drawn  from  the  life  with  which  he  was  familiar,  repre- 
senting various  classes  whose  shortcomings  he  wished 
to  rebuke,  are  introduced  by  Langland  with  a  vigorous 


56  THE    ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

force  that  gives  impressiveness  to  his  work.  While 
the  spirit  and  tone  of  the  Vision  are  serious  and  severe, 
the  extraordinary  vividness  of  his  portraits,  his  keen 
insight  into  the  ways  of  men,  the  zeal  and  passion  of 
the  poet,  give  to  Langland's  work  a  real  distinction 
in  the  literature  of  the  time.  The  poem  itself  is 
extremely  interesting  in  its  metrical  structure.  It  is 
in  the  Midland  dialect  and  stands  forth  as  the  last  ex- 
ample of  the  old  alliterative  verse  in  English  poetry. 
There  are  no  end-rhymes.  The  diction  is  like  that  of 
Chaucer.1  Langland  was  a  reformer,  and  he  devoted 
the  last  years  of  his  life  to  the  amplification  of  his 
Vision.  In  1393  he  added  the  poems  Do  Wei,  Do 
Bet,  and  Do  Best.  Long  Will,  as  his  contemporaries 
called  him,  died  at  Bristol  probably  in  the  year  1400. 
While  Langland's    Vision  was   stirring    the  hearts 

.  .    t„        and  consciences    of    the    common    people    of 
John  Wye-  .  . 

ill,  1324-  England,  there  was  already  in  preparation 
a  work  destined  to  surpass  all  other  books 
of  its  time  in  its  influence  for  good  and  its  effect  upon 
the  development  of  our  literary  English.  This  was 
Wyclif's  great  translation  of  the  Bible.  While  the 
dreamer  of  the  Vision  of  Piers  the  Plowman  was  but 
a  humble  unordained  servant  of  the  Church,  John 
Wyclif  was  a  prominent  figure  in  ecclesiastical  and 
scholastic  circles.  A  graduate  of  Oxford,  he  received 
the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  and  became  Master 
of  Balliol  College  in  that  University.  Aroused  and 
indignant  at  the  open  corruption  of  those  who  assumed 

1  Langland's  method  of  versification  may  be  seen  from  the  following 
lines  which  form  the  beginning  of  his  poem  :  — 

"  In  a  somer  seson  whan  soft  was  thp  sonne 
I  sliopp '  me  in  Bhroudes5  as  1  a  shepe1  were, 
In  habit  as  an  heremite  unholy  oi  wi'i-kes 
Went  wyde  in  this  world  wondres  to  here." 

>  Clad.  2  Garments.  »  Shepherd. 


JOHN   WYCLIF  57 

to  represent  the  Church,  Wyclif's  soul  was  set  on  fire 
with  the  ardor,  and  some  of  the  fanaticism,  of  the  re- 
former ;  even  before  his  degree  had  been  conferred,  he 
had  in  his  Objections  to  Friars  sounded  a  note  which 
was  but  the  prelude  to  his  vigorous,  fearless  career. 
In  1375  he  was  sent  with  the  authority  of  Government 
to  Bruges  to  protest  against  the  encroachments  of 
papal  power ;  but  three  years  later,  having  disputed 
the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  and  other  teachings 
of  the  Church,  he  was  summoned  before  an  ecclesias- 
tical court  in  London  to  answer  charges  of  heresy. 
Then  came  other  attacks  ;  still  Wyclif  continued  to 
preach  and  to  write  against  the  evil  deeds  of  the  friars, 
and  also  against  certain  dogmas  of  Rome.  The  seed 
of  his  sowing  speedily  bore  fruit.  Disciples  and  ad- 
herents of  the  reformer  repeated  his  words  and  ex- 
tended his  influence.  In  1374  he  had  been  presented 
to  the  living  of  Lutterworth  in  Leicestershire,  and  at 
Lutterworth  he  preached  and  wrote,  although  he  con- 
tinued as  lecturer  at  the  University  till  silenced  in 
1381.  Enemies  attempted  to  suppress  him  ;  the  pope 
issued  bulls  demanding  his  arrest.  Only  his  popular- 
ity with  the  masses,  and  the  firm  friendship  of  a  few 
powerful  nobles,  saved  Wyclif  from  imprisonment,  if 
not  from  death.  In  1384  he  was  summoned  by  Pope 
Urban  to  answer  to  charges  at  Rome ;  but  in  that 
same  year  the  defiant  reformer  was  stricken  with  paral- 
ysis while  celebrating  mass  in  his  Lutterworth  church, 
and  two  days  later  died.  Forty  years  after  his  death 
the  spirit  of  fanatical  hate  found  expression  in  an  act 
of  impotent  vengeance  upon  Wyclif's  remains :  the 
coffin  was  broken  open,  his  bones  were  burned,  and 
the  ashes  cast  into  the  waters  of  the  Swift,  whence, 
as  Thomas  Fuller  said  in  his  Church  History,  "  the 
brook  conveyed  them  to  the  Avon,  Avon  into  Severn, 


58  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

Severn  into  the  narrow  seas,  they  into  the  main  ocean  ; 
and  thus  the  ashes  of  Wyclif  are  the  emblem  of  his 
doctrine,  which  now  has  dispersed  all  the  world  over." 
Distinguished  as  a  pioneer  in  the  English  Reforma- 
tion, Wyclif  holds  his  place  in  literature  because  he 
made  the  first  translation  of  the  entire  Bible  into  Ens-- 
lish.  The  whole  of  the  New  Testament  and  a  consid- 
erable portion  of  the  Old  Testament  he  himself  trans- 
lated from  the  Latin  Vulgate  ;  the  remainder  of  the 
work  was  done  under  his  direction.  It  was  a  book 
which  had  as  much  influence  in  fixing:  the  form  of  our 
language  as  did  the  work  of  Chaucer.  The  plain  yet 
impressive  diction  of  this  translator  may  be  recognized 
in  the  following  passage  :  — 

"  But  in  o  day  of  the  woke  ful  eerli  thei  caraen  to  the 
grave,  and  broughten  swete  smelling  spices  that  thei  hadden 
araved.  And  thei  founden  the  stoon  turnyd  awey  fro  the 
graue.  And  thei  geden  in  and  foundun  not  the  bodi  of  the 
Lord  Jhesus.  And  it  was  don,  the  while  thei  weren  astonyed  in 
thought  of  this  thing,  lo  twe  men  stodun  bisidis  hem  in  schyn- 
yng  cloth.  And  whanne  thei  dredden  and  bowiden  her  sem- 
blaunt  into  erthe,  thei  seiden  to  hem,  what  seeken  ye  him  that 
lyueth  with  deede  men?  He  is  not  here  :  but  he  is  risun  : 
baue  ye  minde  how  he  spak  to  you  whanne  he  was  yit  in 
Golilee,  and  seide,  for  it  behouetb  niannes  sone  to  be  bitakun 
into  the  hondis  of  synf  ul  men  :  and  to  be  crucifyed  :  and  the 
thridde  day  to  rise  agen  ?  " 

Little  is  known  of  the  personality  of  the  man  who 
JohnOower,  was  Chaucer's  principal  literary  contempo- 
1325-1408.  rary,  and  whom  he  mentions  as  the  "  moral 
Gower."  This  writer  was  apparently  a  native  of 
Kent ;  he  was  a  man  of  wealth,  and  while  a  secular 
poet  like  Chaucer,  he  must  have  been  a  serious  student 
of  the  times  and  impressed  with  the  grave  conditions 
then  existing  in  society  and  politics.     He  is  remem- 


THE   AGE   OF  CHAUCER  59 

bered  as  the  author  of  three  important  works.  The  Spe- 
culum Meditantis,  or  the  Mirror  of  One  Meditating,  was 
written  in  French.  His  second  work,  the  Vox  Clamantis, 
or  the  Voice  of  One  Crying,  is  a  Latin  poem  in  hexameter 
and  pentameter  verse  ;  it  was  composed  just  after  the 
rebellion  under  Wat  Tyler  and  Jack  Straw  in  1381, 
and  pictures  the  condition  of  society  and  moralizes  on 
its  ills.  Gower's  third  production  is  the  Confessio 
Amantis,  or  the  Lover  s  Confession ;  this  is  in  Eng- 
lish, and  is  a  poetical  collection  of  tales  bound  to- 
gether by  a  story-thread  in  the  style  of  Boccaccio's 
Decameron  and  of  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales.  It 
seems  to  have  been  written  about  1385.  Although  a 
studious  and  industrious  writer,  John  Gower  was  not 
a  model  story-teller ;  his  tales  are  too  dull  to  hold  the 
interest  of  present-day  readers,  and  by  the  side  of 
Chaucer  he  occupies  an  inferior  place. 

III.    THE   AGE   OF   CHAUCER. 

The  beginnings  of  English  literature  as  we  have 
traced  them  seem  to  belong  to  the  shadow-land  of  a 
dim  past.  The  makers  of  that  early  literature  are 
often  nameless,  and  the  personality  of  many  whose 
names  are  known  is  vaguely  indistinct.  It  is  as  though 
we  saw  men  only  through  the  mists  of  a  gray,  chill 
twilight  before  the  dawn.  In  the  latter  half  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  however,  there  comes  a  burst  of 
sunlight  that  brightens  and  warms  every  reader's  heart. 
Men  move  in  a  visible  and  a  familiar  world ;  they 
speak  in  hearty  English  tones.  We  know  them  for 
our  kinsfolk,  although  the  modulations  and  the  accent 
strike  somewhat  strangely  on  our  ears.  There  is  the 
song  of  lark  and  throstle.  The  breath  of  an  English 
May  is  in  the  atmosphere.  It  is  the  age  of  Geoffrey 
Chaucer,  — 


60  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

..."  Poet  of  the  dawn,  who  wrote 
The  Canterbury  Tales,  and  his  old  age 
Made  beautiful  with  song ;   and  as  I  read 
1  hear  the  crowing  cock,  I  hear  the  note 
Of  lark  and  linnet,  and  from  every  page 
Rise  odors  of  plowed  field  or  flowery  mead."  l 

The  England  of  Chaucer's  day  was  the  England  of 
Chaucer's  Edward  III.,  of  Richard  II.,  and  of  Henry 
England.  jy  j/he  great  Duke  of  Lancaster,  John  of 
Gaunt,  was  himself  the  poet's  patron  and  protector.  It 
was  a  confused  but  eventful  epoch  in  English  history, 
a  period  of  foreign  war  and  civil  strife.  When  Geof- 
frey Chaucer  was  a  boy  of  five  or  six,  the  English  won 
the  historic  victory  of  Crecy  ;  ten  years  later  he  was 
old  enough  to  shout  with  the  rest  over  the  news  of 
Poictiers,  and  to  join  in  the  tumult  of  triumph  when 
the  Black  Prince  led  his  pikesmen  and  his  archers 
through  the  crowded  London  streets,  with  the  king  of 
France,  a  royal  prisoner,  riding  at  his  side.  At  nine- 
teen Chaucer  was  himself  a  soldier,  fighting  on  French 
soil  in  maintenance  of  Edward's  claim  to  France.  The 
commotions  which  attended  the  rise  of  the  Lancastrians 
affected  directly  the  fortunes  of  the  poet,  and  the  ac- 
cession of  John  of  Gaunt's  son  to  the  throne  occurred 
a  twelvemonth  before  Chaucer's  death. 

In  appearance  England  was  still  medieval.  The 
age  of  chivalry  was  in  its  very  flower.  The 
knight,  attended  by  esquire  and  yeomen,  rode 
abroad,  engaged  in  crusade  or  on  private  quarrel, 
fought  the  pagans  of  the  Orient,  or  contended  in  the 
lists  with  knights  of  other  nations  for  the  glory  of 
his  own.  Rural  England  was  gradually  developing. 
Manor  houses,  with  all  the  barns  and  buildings  of  a 
fertile,  prosperous  countryside,  are  more  typical  of  this 
age  than  the  heavy  threatening  towers  and  ramparts  of 

1  Longfellow's  sonnet,  Chaucer. 


LUXURY   AND   EXTRAVAGANCE  61 

the  northern  castles,  now  gray  with  time.  In  these 
more  peaceful  abodes  of  the  well-to-do  franklins,  or 
free  landholders,  —  the  gentry  of  a  later  day,  —  was 
dispensed  a  hospitality  as  abundant  as  it  was  rude. 
Along  the  highways  moved  a  picturesque  procession, 
typical  of  English  life  :  chapmen  or  peddlers,  dickering 
with  perhaps  a  ploughman,  or  with  some  village  girl  or 
gossip  more  curious  for  news  than  wares ;  merchants 
riding  busily,  somewhat  wrapped  in  thoughts  of  trade ; 
soldiers,  farm  hands,  mendicant  friars,  officers  of  the 
law,  minstrels,  pilgrims,  —  wayfarers  of  varying  rank 
and  class.  And  men  in  buckram  suits,  or  Kendal 
green,  harbored  in  the  tracts  of  forest  wilderness,  or 
slunk  behind  the  thickets  at  the  roadside  ;  it  was  safer 
to  travel  in  company  than  alone. 

In  the  world  of  trade  the  merchant-companies,  or 
guilds,  such  as  the  merchant-tailors,  the  fish-  Luxury 
mongers,  or  the  goldsmiths'  companies,  en-  ^Ex_ 
joyed  a  prestige  and  privilege  which  made  gance. 
them  a  political  as  well  as  a  commercial  power.  Un- 
der Edward  III.  they  received  the  right  to  elect  mem- 
bers to  Parliament.  Wealthy  merchants  lent  large 
sums  of  money  to  the  king.  English  travelers,  not 
only  those  engaged  in  trade,  or  dispatched  on  official 
errands,  but  sightseers,  pilgrims,  pleasure  seekers,  were 
found  in  every  country  of  Europe ;  they  observed 
closely  and  intelligently,  and  became  conversant  with 
the  customs  and  literatures  of  foreign  lands.  Often 
they  imitated  or  imported  the  luxuries  enjoyed  abroad. 
Edward  III.  played  chess  on  a  board  of  jasper  and 
crystal  silver-mounted.  He  gave  his  daughter  Mar- 
garet a  wedding  present  of  2000  pearls,  and  to  his 
mistress,  Alice  Perrers,  20,000  large  pearls  in  a  single 
gift. 

Fine  gothic  structures  rise  :  splendid  tapestries  adorn 


62  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

the  walls  of  the  rich  :  beautiful  windows  of  stained 
glass  admit  the  light.  The  newer  houses  of  the  wealthy 
now  have  chimneys.  Singular  dishes  are  concocted  for 
the  luxurious  taste  of  the  time.  Hens  and  rabbits  are 
prepared  chopped  together  with  almonds,  raisins,  sugar, 
ginger,  herbs,  onions,  rice-flour  —  the  whole  colored 
with  saffron.  Peacocks  are  roasted  and  served  in  their 
own  plumage.  Along  with  this  extravagance  of  table 
there  are  incongruities  in  etiquette,  and  an  absence  of 
many  simple  conveniences,  indispensable  to-day,  that 
impress  us,  perhaps  unduly,  with  the  uncouth  crudities 
of  the  age.  Forks  are  not  yet  invented ;  one  holds  his 
meat  with  his  left  hand  and  carves  with  his  right.  We 
find  one  particular  cook  commended  because  he  does 
not  scratch  his  head  or  wipe  his  plates  with  his  tongue. 
There  is  an  extreme  frankness  in  habits  and  in  speech 
on  the  part  of  both  women  and  men.  What  to  us  ap- 
pears grossly  out  of  place  to  both  eye  and  ear  is  in 
many  cases  tolerated  without  a  thought.  On  the  whole 
the  position  of  woman  is  not  altogether  enviable. 

Moreover,  there  were  many  contrasts  and  some  strong 
Evils  oi        shadows  in  English  life  during  Edward's  bril- 

Time.  ]iant  antj  extravagant  reign.  The  Church  had 
fallen  on  evil  times  ;  its  corruption  was  notorious  even 
among  the  people  themselves.  Already,  in  the  protests 
of  Langland  and  the  threatenings  of  Wyclif,  the  spirit 
of  the  Information  had  begun  to  speak,  but  the  fullness 
of  time  had  not  yet  come.  The  great  abbeys  supported 
a  luxury  no  less  extravagant  than  that  of  the  castle. 
The  sensual,  ease-loving  monks,  the  shrewd  and  con- 
scienceless priests,  the  pardoners  with  their  gross  im- 
postures, the  friars  pertinaciously  begging  their  vaga- 
bond way  over  England —  these  classes  furnished  types 
which  were  deemed  fairly  representative  of  the  time, 
and  which  appealed  to  others  than  Chaucer  as  the  bane 


LONDON  63 

of  rich  and  poor  alike.  Happily,  now  and  then  was 
found  some  poor  parish  priest,  benignant,  humble,  de- 
voted to  his  flock,  versed  in  the  spirit  as  in  the  letter 
of  the  Word,  forgetful  of  his  own  needs  in  errands  of 
mercy,  himself  a  safe  example  to  the  sheep,  following 
faithfully  the  precepts  that  he  taught,  a  veritable  shep- 
herd and  no  hireling. 

Among  the  common  people  were  many  troublous 
signs.  There  was  a  great  gulf  between  rich  and  poor, 
who  had  little  in  common  except  the  air  they  breathed. 
But  that  air  was  English  air,  and  when  the  abuse  of 
power  became  too  gross,  or  the  callous  indifference  of 
the  one  class  to  the  woes  of  the  other  intolerable,  there 
were  outbreaks  and  revolts.  Wat  the  Tyler  was  a 
day  laborer,  yet  the  rebellion  he  headed  in  1381  threw 
the  entire  south  of  England  into  the  turmoil  of  war. 
The  commons  were  beginning  to  feel  their  strength  and 
to  clamor  for  rights. 

London  was  a  populous  and  busy  city  —  then,  as 
now,  the  heart  of  England's  life.  Upon  the 
broad  surface  of  the  Thames  floated  ships 
from  the  Mediterranean  and  the  Baltic,  some  of  them 
laden  with  the  silks  and  spices  of  the  East.  Wharves 
and  warehouses  are  piled  with  English  products,  wool, 
skins,  cloth,  metals,  butter,  and  cheese,  —  consignments 
to  Germany  and  Russia,  to  France  and  Spain.  Ship- 
men  and  customs  officers,  merchants  and  exchangers, 
tradesmen,  carters,  travelers,  men  with  foreign  faces, 
mingle  in  confused  activity.  The  river  is  the  main 
thoroughfare  as  well  for  rowboats  and  barges,  which 
convey  business  men  and  pleasure  parties  from  point  to 
point.  Near  one  extreme  of  the  town  is  Westminster  ; 
near  the  eastern  limit  rises  the  historic  Tower.  St. 
Paul's,  a  gothic  structure,  stands  between  the  two,  not 
far  from  the  riverside  and  near  the  approach  to  Lon- 


64  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

don  bridge,  which,  all  overhung  with  shops  and  houses, 
affords  communication  with  the  Surrey  side  of  the 
Thames.  A  continuous  throng  of  citizens  and  stran- 
gers pass  and  repass  on  this  famous  bridge.  Southwark 
is  on  the  southern  bank,  where  are  most  of  the  places 
of  amusement  and  resort.  Here  stood  the  noted  Tab- 
ard Inn,  "  faste  by  the  belle."  Beyond  the  suburb  lay 
green  fields  and  open  meadowland,  over  which  wound 
the  country  highways  through  Surrey  and  Kent.  Yon- 
der the  road  to  Canterbury  might  be  traced.  On  the 
side  of  London  away  from  the  Thames,  the  city  was 
protected  by  its  medieval  wall,  pierced  here  and  there 
by  gates,  through  which  visitors  entered  and  left  the 
town.  Above  these  gates  were  heavy  bastions,  and  in 
one  of  these  somewhat  sombre  towers  Geoffrey  Chaucer 
was  lodged  for  about  twelve  years.  The  streets  of 
London  were  narrow  and  dirty  beyond  belief.  The 
centre  of  the  roadway  was  a  running  sewer ;  pigs  wal- 
lowed in  the  mire,  notwithstanding  an  earlier  law  which 
read,  "  And  whoso  will  keep  a  pig,  let  him  keep  it  in 
his  own  house."  Such,  in  part,  was  the  capital  city  of 
P^ngland  in  the  fourteenth  century,  and  such,  allowing 
for  increased  population,  it  remained  for  a  hundred 
years. 

IV.     GEOFFREY    CHAUCER:    1340(?)-1400. 

Geoffrey  Chaucer  was  born  in  London  about  1340. 
His  father,  John  Chaucer,  was  a  wine  mer- 
chant in  Thames  Street.  He  had  been  pur- 
veyor to  the  household  of  Edward  III.,  and  was  evi- 
dently in  excellent  standing  as  a  citizen,  obtaining  for 
lu's  son  a  position  much  coveted  for  a  youth  in  that  age, 
—  an  appointment  as  page  in  the  royal  household.  It 
is  in  this  connection  that  we  first  hear  of  Geoffrey 
Chaucer,  a  youth  of  seventeen,  attached  to  the  family 


CHAUCER'S   EARLY  WORKS  65 

of  Prince  Lionel,  Duke  of  Clarence,  in  the  immediate 
service  of  Elizabeth  his  wife.  Here  the  boy  received 
his  first  glimpse  of  the  life  at  court,  his  first  lessons  in 
courtly  fashions  and  behavior.  He  waited  on  his  mis- 
tress, did  her  errands,  assisted  in  the  table  service,  was 
taught  music  and  the  languages,  associated  with  youths 
of  a  station  more  exalted  than  his  own,  and  grew  fa- 
miliar with  the  habits  and  behavior  of  men  of  rank 
and  note.  In  the  fall  of  1359  Edward  invaded  France, 
and  Geoffrey  Chaucer  had  some  part  in  that  campaign, 
falling  as  a  prisoner  into  the  hands  of  the  French.  In 
the  following  March  he  was  ransomed,  the  king  con- 
tributing sixteen  pounds  to  the  necessary  sum.  From 
this  time  on  Chaucer  appears  to  have  been  attached  to 
the  court,  and  is  referred  to  in  the  records  of  1367  as 
valet  to  the  king,  with  a  salary  of  twenty  pounds.  He 
was  already  married  to  Philippa,  lady-in-waiting  to  the 
queen.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  during  these 
years,  from  seventeen  to  twenty-seven  or  thirty,  the 
scholar's  tastes  and  instincts  had  been  stinted.  That 
he  was  ever  a  student  of  books  and  a  lover  of  nature  is 
clear  enough  from  the  literary  material  of  which  Chau- 
cer was  master ;  and  this  was  the  budding  time  of  his 
genius. 

Chaucer  had  already  found  the  power  to  express 
himself  in  rhyme,  although,  as  we  should  ex-  Early 
pect,  it  is  in  the  conventional  form  of  the  only  Works- 
literature  with  which  the  young  poet  was  then  ac- 
quainted, the  French.  Three  poems  are  extant  which 
belong  apparently  to  this  first  period :  Chaucer's 
A.  B.  C,  a  prayer  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  freely  trans- 
lated from  the  French  of  a  Cistercian  monk,  and  taking 
its  title  from  the  fact  that  its  twenty-three  stanzas  be- 
gin consecutively  with  the  various  letters  of  the  alpha- 
bet in  order ;   The  Compleynte  to  Pite,  a  love  poem. 


GG  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

melodious  and  graceful,  though  in  the  conventional 
manner  of  French  love  poems  of  the  day  ;  and  The 
IJethe  of  Blaunche  the  Uuchesse,  a  poem  of  1334  lines, 
in  honor  of  Blanche,  wife  of  John  of  Gaunt.  As  this 
lady  died  in  13G9,  this  elegy  is  assigned  to  that  same 
year.  Besides  these  poems,  Chaucer  composed  also 
many  songs  and  ballads,  with  which,  according  to  John 
Gower,  "  the  land  ful  filled  was,  over  all."  It  is  also 
true  that  Chaucer  had  made  a  translation  of  the  most 
popular  French  poem  of  that  age,  a  long  allegory  of 
love  entitled  Le  Roman  de  la  Rose.  The  English 
version  of  this  work,  known  as  The  Romaunt  of  the 
Rose,  although  attributed  to  Chaucer  for  many  years, 
is  not  regarded  as  his. 

Between  the  years  1370  and  1385  the  poet's  life  was 
Thes  -  rather  that  of  a  man  of  action  than  that  of  a 
ondPe-  man  of  letters,  and  yet  coincidently  with  the 
discharge  of  important  public  duties,  Chaucer 
was  introduced  to  a  new  world  of  art  and  culture,  un- 
der the  inspiration  of  which  he  accomplished  his  finest 
work.  In  December,  1372,  he  was  sent  by  the  king  to 
the  cities  of  Genoa  and  Florence  on  an  important  mis- 
sion pertaining  to  commercial  relations  between  those 
cities  and  London.  He  was  absent  on  this  errand 
about  three  months,  returning  to  England  in  April, 
1373.  Precisely  what  Chaucer  did  in  Italy  at  this 
time  is  all  unknown  to  us,  but  we  may  well  imagine  the 
delight  with  which  he  looked  on  the  beautiful  works 
about  him.  Pisa  was  already  famous  for  its  marvelous 
tower  of  creamy  marble,  while  in  Florence,  Giotto  had 
completed  the  slender  campanile  now  called  by  his 
name. 

-lust  where  Chaucer  walked  or  rode,  with  whom  he 
conversed,  and  whom  he  went  to  see,  we  know  not ; 
but  Francis  Petrarch,  the  laureate  of  Italy,  was  still 


ITALIAN   INFLUENCES  67 

alive,  and  could  be  visited  in  his  country  retreat  near 
Padua.  Boccaccio  was  already  famous  as  the  author 
of  romances  and  tales  which  were  to  gather  new  fame 
in  the  hands  of  this  English  poet.  In  the  fall  of  that 
very  year,  1373,  Boccaccio  was  to  commence  in  Flor- 
ence a  series  of  public  lectures  on  the  Divine  Comedy 
of  Dante,  the  great  world-poet  of  medievalism,  who 
had  died  some  fifty  years  before. 

Thus  did  Chaucer  enter  Italy,  that  country  which 
was  foremost  in  the  great  awakening  of 
thought  and  life,  which  we  call  the  Renas-  infiu- 
cence,  or  new  birth  of  cultui-e,  the  real  begin- 
ning of  the  modern  world.  The  impressions  of  this 
visit,  undoubtedly  profound,  were  intensified  by  a  sec- 
ond journey  in  1378,  when  Chaucer  was  intrusted  by 
young  King  Richard  with  a  mission  to  Milan,  occupy- 
ing some  three  months,  as  before.  Chaucer  was  now  an 
extremely  busy  man,  with  small  leisure  for  literary  work. 
In  1374  he  was  appointed  comptroller  of  the  customs 
and  subsidies  on  wools,  skins,  and  tanned  hides,  in  the 
port  of  London,  it  being  explicitly  stated  that  the  du- 
ties of  this  office  should  be  performed  by  the  comp- 
troller in  person,  and  not  by  deputy.  The  death  of 
Edward,  and  the  accession  of  the  boy -king,  Richard  II., 
occurred  in  June,  1377.  In  1382  Chaucer  received  a 
new  appointment  to  the  office  of  comptroller  of  the 
petty  customs,  which  he  held  in  addition  to  his  first 
collectorship.  In  1385  he  was  granted  permission  to 
employ  a  deputy,  an  arrangement  which  afforded  mucl 
relief. 

In  spite  of  the  laborious  days,  these  years  of  the 
poet's  life  were  by  no  means  unproductive  or  unimpor 
tant.     Very  early  in    this  period,  perhaps,  belongs   a 
prose  version  of  the  famous  medieval  essay  by  Boethius 
(died  525  a.  d.),  De  Consolatiojie  Philosophies,  first 


\ 


68  THE  ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

translated  into  Anglo-Saxon  by  King  Alfred.  It  io 
unlikely  that  Chaucer  wrote  much  during  the  inter- 
val between  the  two  Italian  journeys,  but  shortly  after 
the  second  visit  he  produced  what,  next  to  The  Canter- 
bury Tales,  is  the  poet's  greatest  success.  This  is  the 
Troilus  and  Criseyde,  a  love  romance  based  upon  a 
much  longer  poem,  11  Filostrato,  or  Love's  Victim,  by 
Boccaccio.  Chaucer's  poem  contains  over  8000  lines, 
and  not  more  than  a  third  of  the  whole  is  to  be  recog- 
nized as  borrowed  from  its  original.  In  this  work  the 
poet  first  reveals  that  wonderful  story-telling  power 
which  has  made  him  famous  among  all  makers  of  imagi- 
native literature.  Troilvs  and  Criseyde  contains  in 
great  degree  the  spirit  of  the  modern  novel.  Love  and 
love's  fickleness  is  the  theme,  and  the  characters  of 
Troilus,  Criseyde,  and  the  wily,  coarse-natured  Pandar 
are  developed  with  the  finest  art. 
Thus  does  the  poem  begin  :  — 

"  The  double  sorowe  of  Troilus  to  tellen 

That  was  the  Kinge  Priamus'  sone  of  Troye, 
In  lovyng  how  hise  aventures  fellen 
From  wo  to  welle,  and  after  out  of  joye, 
My  purpos  is,  er  that  I  parte  fro  ye 
Thesiphone,  thou  help  me  for  tendyte  ! 
This  woful  vers,  that  wepen  as  I  wryte  !  " 

Besides  this  metrical  romance,  the  most  important 
poems  of  Chaucer's  second  period  are  two  alle- 
Aiiego-  gories  :  The  Parlement  of  Foules,  or  As- 
sembly of  Birds,  and  The  Hous  of  Fame. 
The  first  has  a  political  significance  and  celebrates  the 
wooing  of  Anne  of  Bohemia  in  1382  by  the  poet's 
master,  Richard  II.  The  other  poem  was  a  much 
longer  work.  It  is  somewhat  in  the  spirit  of  Dante, 
and  recounts  the  poet's  visit,  in  his  dream,  to  the  glit- 
tering hall  of  Fame,  whither  a  great  golden  eagle  car- 
ries   him.     Here  upon  a  mountain  of    ice  are  carved 


THE   THIRD   PERIOD  69 

the  illustrious  names  of  every  age ;  only  those  of  the 
ancient  world  are  best  preserved,  since  they  are  graven 
on  the  shady  side.  The  house  of  Rumor. is  also  visited, 
but  its  description  is  incomplete.  In  this  brief  per- 
sonal touch,  the  poet  permits  a  glimpse  of  himself. 
He  represents  Jove's  Eagle  addressing  him  thus :  — 

"  Not  of  thy  verray  neyghebores, 
That  dwellen  almost  at  thy  dores, 
Thou  herest  neither  that  ne  this  ; 
For  whan  thy  labour  doon  al  is, 
Thou  gost  hoom  to  thy  hous  anon, 
And,  also  domhe  as  any  stoon, 
Thou  sittest  at  another  hoke, 
Til  fully  daswed  is  thy  loke, 
And  livest  thus  as  an  hermyte."  1 

The  Hous  of  Fame  was  finished  in  1384. 

The  last  period  of  Chaucer's  life  falls  in  the  troubled 
times  which  perplexed  his  contemporary  The  Third 
Gower,  and  inspired  the  last  grim  visions  of  Period- 
Langland,  —  the  years  which  justified  the  forebodings 
and  rebukes  of  Wyclif.  Although  in  1386  the  poet 
took  his  seat  in  Parliament  as  Knight  of  the  shire  for 
Kent,  his  fortunes  quickly  turned.  In  that  same  year, 
through  a  combination  of  the  nobles,  Richard  was  com- 
pelled to  transfer  his  authority  to  a  regency  controlled 
by  the  Duke  of  Gloucester.2  John  of  Gaunt  was  absent 
temporarily  from  the  kingdom,  and  the  party  with  which 
Chaucer  was  identified  lost  completely  for  the  time  its 
prestige.  The  poet  found  no  favor  with  those  who 
now  assumed  the  power.  His  offices  and  privileges 
were  taken  from  him,  and  he  fell  even  into  penury. 
His  misfortunes  were  aggravated  by  the  death  of  his 
wife  Philippa  in  1387.     A  brief  period  of  prosperity 

1  Book  ii.  140. 

2  Of  this  and  subsequent  events,  a  vivid  picture  is  given  in  Shake- 
speare's historical  drama  of  Richard  II. 


70  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

came  in  1389,  but  Chaucer  was  again  in  distress  shortly 
after.  In  1391  he  was  entirely  dependent  upon  the 
generosity  of  his  old  patron,  John  of  Gaunt. 

The  spirit  of  the  poet  was  altered  ;  not  that  he  grew 
morose,  but  that  naturally  enough  a  sober  melancholy 
crept  into  his  verse.  The  chastening  of  his  own  ex- 
perience affected,  not  unwholesomely,  the  tone  of  his 
compositions.  A  good  illustration  of  his  changing 
mood  is  seen  in  the  serious  short  poem,  Fie  fro  tlu 
Pres :  — 

"  Fie  fro  the  pres  and  thvelle  with  soth  fastnesse ; 
Suffice  the  thy  good  though  hit  he  sniale ; 
For  horde  hath  hate  and  clymhyng'  tikelnesse, 
Pres  hath  envye  and  wele  is  hlent  over  alle ; 
Savour  no  more  than  the  behove  shalle, 
Reule  wel  thyself  that  other  folk  canst  rede, 
And  trouthe  the  shall  delyver,  hit  ys  no  drede. 


That  the  ys  sent  recyve  in  huxumnesse, 
The  wrastlynge  of  this  world  asketh  a  fall ; 
Her  is  no  home,  her  is  but  wyldernesse. 
Forth,  pilgrime  !  Forth,  best,  out  of  thy  stalle  ! 
Look  up  on  bye  and  thonke  God  of  alle  ; 
Weyve  thy  luste  and  let  thy  gost  the  lede, 
And  trouthe  the  shall  delyver,  hit  ys  no  drede !  " 

In  The  Legende  of  Goode  Women,  a  poem  of  2500 
lines  and  incomplete,  Chaucer  now  found  heart  to  write 
in  praise  of  woman's  faithful  love. 

But  this  last  period  of  the  poet's  life  is  made  mem- 
orable by  the  creation  of  his  crowning  work.  It  is 
as  the  author  of  The  Canterbury  Tales  that  we  best 
know  Geoffrey  Chaucer ;  and  this  great  work  stands 
forth  as  the  undisputed  masterpiece  of  English  litera- 
ture throughout  the  entire  Middle  English  Period. 
The  composition  of  portions  of  this  work  occupied  the 
poet  at  different  periods,  but  the  definite  plan  of  the 
masterpiece  as  a  whole  belongs  to  the  last  ten  or  twelve 
years  of  his  life. 


THE   CANTERBURY  TALES  71 

The  idea  of  such  an  arrangement  of  entertaining 
narratives  as  Chaucer  here  brings  together  Tj.eCan. 
may  have  been  suggested  by  the  Decame-  terbury 
ron  of  the  Italian  Boccaccio,  with  which  it 
seems  highly  probable  that  the  English  poet  was  famil- 
iar. Boccaccio's  device  to  secure  an  artificial  unity  for 
his  series  of  detached  stories  is  comparatively  simple. 
He  presents,  in  a  lovely  villa  amid  the  cypresses  and 
olive  trees  on  the  hillside  overlooking  Florence,  a  gay 
party  of  ten  lords  and  ladies  who  have  fled  the  city  be- 
cause of  the  plague.  They  are  bound  to  introduce  no 
news  from  without  that  is  not  agreeable.  They  seat 
themselves  in  the  delightful  shade  of  the  grove,  and  re- 
late to  each  other  the  tales  which  pleasantly  enable  them 
to  forget  the  awful  suffering  of  the  afflicted  city.  The 
English  poet  is  peculiarly  happy  in  the  artifice  which 
provides  the  machinery  of  his  plan.  He  hits  upon  a 
characteristic  incident  of  English  life,  —  the  passage  of 
a  company  of  pilgrims  to  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  a 
Becket  at  Canterbury ;  an  occurrence,  not  infrequent, 
that  permitted  the  picturesque  grouping  of  many  na- 
tional types  that  meet  us  in  The  Canterbury  Tales. 
The  most  familiar  portion  of  Chaucer's  works  is  the 
famous  Prologue,  in  which  the  poet  so  happily  de- 
scribes his  party  and  accounts  for  his  own  presence  in 
the  group.  These  850  lines,  setting  forth  the  intention 
of  the  book  and  vividly  presenting  the  nine  and  twenty 
pilgrims,  one  by  one,  is  a  masterpiece  of  literature,  and 
the  best  example  left  us  of  our  first  great  poet's  genial 
insight  into  character,  and  his  superb  power  in  portray- 
ing human  nature  realistically.  The  personages  that 
figured  in  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales  passed  imme- 
diately into  literary  immortality,  and  more  than  one 
skillful  painter  has  transferred  Chaucer's  unmistak- 
able portraits  to  his  canvas.     But  one  thing  must  be 


72  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

emphasized :  the  Tales  are  to  be  regarded  as  parts  of 
a  natural  and  unified,  even  if  not  a  completed,  work. 
Whether  a  part  of  the  original  purpose  or  not,  The 
Canterbury  Tales  as  a  whole  present  a  vivid  picture  of 
English  life  and  character  in  Chaucer's  day.  Thanks 
to  the  skillful  grouping,  the  use  of  the  "  links  "  that 
introduce  the  several  tales,  and  the  bits  of  dialogue 
which  intervene,  suggesting  coincidently  the  progress 
of  the  pilgrims  and  the  movement  of  the  narrative  — 
above  all  to  the  dramatic  skill  which  fits  so  appropri- 
ately to  character  and  rank  the  quality  of  the  stories 
told  —  we  have  here  a  series  of  subtle  portraits  of 
English  men  and  tvomen  as  Chaucer  knew  them  and 
interpreted  their  lives  to  us.  Unfortunately  the  poet 
did  not  finish  his  work.  The  plan  provided  that  each 
pilgrim  should  recount  two  stories  on  the  way  to  Can- 
terbury and  two  returning ;  but  the  narrative  is  broken 
before  the  company  reaches  its  destination,  and  only 
twenty-four  tales  are  told. 

The  last  year  of  Chaucer's  life  saw  a  brief  better- 
Chaucer's  ment  of  the  fortunes  which  had  proved  so 
Death.  variable.     Henry  Bolingbroke  ascended   the 

throne  as  King  Henry  IV.  in  September,  1399.  To 
him  the  poet  addressed  his  humorous  but  pathetic  Com- 
pleynt  to  his  Purs.  A  pension  of  forty  pounds  was 
settled  upon  him  at  once,  and  Chaucer  leased  a  house  in 
Westminster  in  December  of  that  year.  But  hardly  a 
twelvemonth  of  life  remained  to  him.  He  died  Octo- 
ber 25,  1400,  and  was  the  first  of  the  poets  to  be  laid 
in  that  historic  corner  of  the  Abbey  which  has  been 
consecrated  by  their  remains. 

Thus  the  life  and  work  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer  are 
Apprecia-  complete.  A  lover  of  books  and  a  careful 
Chancer.  reader  of  all  the  literatures  then  existing,  he 
was  no  less  a  lover  of  nature  in  all  her  forms.     The 


APPRECIATION   OF   CHAUCER  73 

outside  world  was  full  of  charm  to  him,  and  his  con- 
fession is  prettily  recorded  in  terms  familiar  to  all 
readers  of  his  works  :  — 

"  And  as  for  me,  tho  that  I  konne  but  lyte, 
On  bokes  for  to  rede  I  me  delyte 
And  in  myn  herte  have  hem  in  reverence 
And  to  hem  give  I  f eyth  and  full  credence 
So  hertely  that  ther  is  game  noon 
That  fro  my  bokes  maketh  me  to  goon, 
But  yt  be  seldom  on  the  holy  day, 
Save  certeynly,  whan  that  the  moneth  of  May 
Is  comen,  and  that  I  here  the  foules  singe 
And  that  the  floures  gynnen  for  to  springe  — 
Farewel  my  boke,  and  my  devocioun  !  "  * 

The  student  who  knows  Chaucer  only  in  his  Prologue 
will  hardly  appreciate  this  poet's  ability  to  describe 
the  various  phases  of  nature's  loveliness.  Thus  does 
the  sun  rise  on  Palamon  and  Arcite :  — 

"  The  bisy  larke,  messager  of  day, 
Salueth  in  hir  song  the  morwe  gray  ; 
And  fiery  Phebus  riseth  up  so  brighte, 
That  al  the  orient  laugheth  of  the  lighte, 
And  with  his  stremes  dryeth  in  the  greves 
The  silver  droppes  hangyng  on  the  leves."  2 

Again  the  bright  hues  of  nature,  the  fresh  coolness  of 
the  atmosphere,  the  abounding  life  of  bough  and 
brook,  are  figured  forth  in  these  smoothly  flowing 
lines :  — 

"  A  gardyn  saw  I  ful  of  blospemy  bowys 
Upon  a  river  in  a  grene  mede, 
There  as  ther  swetnesse  everemore  i-now  is  ; 
With  flouris  white,  blewe,  and  yelwe,  and  rede, 
And  colde  welle-stremys,  no-thyng  dede, 
That  swemyn  ful  of  smale  fishes  lite, 
With  fynnys  rede  and  skalys  sylvyr  bryghte, 
On  every  bow  the  bryddis  herde  I  synge 
With  voys  of  aungel  in  here  armonye."  3 

1  The  Legende  of  Goode  Women,  Prologue,  11.  30-39.     Compare  the 
lines  following,  also  the  poet's  description  of  the  daisy,  11.  171-207. 

2  The  Knight 's  Tale,  11.  633-638. 

8  The  Parlement  of  Foules,  11.  183-191. 


74  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

But  above  all  to  be  noted  in  a  study  of  Chaucer  is 
the  unfailing  insight  and  genial  charity  with  which  he 
surveys  and  understands  his  fellow  men.  Their  weak- 
nesses and  frailties  provoke  a  mild  rebuke ;  but  even 
in  his  chiding,  Chaucer  smiles,  and  the  world  is  con- 
strained to  smile  sympathetically  with  him.  His  grave 
contemporary,  Langland,  utterly  devoid  of  humor, — 
that  saving  sense  of  every  age,  —  looks  sourly  forth  on 
this  same  world,  and  straightway  puts  on  sackcloth  in 
a  sort  of  vicarious  penitence  for  its  sins.  Chaucer 
plainly  loves  his  fellows  and  the  world  he  lives  in  ; 
that  which  is  sent  he  is  able  "  to  receyve  in  buxum- 
nesse,"  and  thanks  God  for  all.  And  his  life,  as  we 
remember,  with  all  its  cheery  brightness,  had  its  full 
measure  of  disappointment  and  care.  Wholesome  and 
kindly,  the  first  of  English  writers  to  portray  real- 
istically the  life  and  manners  of  a  time,  there  is  no 
more  companionable  author  in  all  our  literature  than 
Chaucer. 

The  struggle  for  usage  between  the  French  of  the 
Norman  conquerors  and  the  native  speech  of  the  Sax- 
ons had  virtually  come  to  an  end  before  Chaucer  began 
to  write.  It  was  in  13G2  that  English  was  again  offi- 
cially recognized,  and  Henry  IV.  took  his  oath  in  1399, 
"  in  the  name  of  Fadir,  Son  and  Holy  Gost,"  the  first 
of  English  kings  since  William's  time  to  thus  employ 
on  that  occasion  the  native  Saxon  tongue.  But  at  the 
middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  the  language  was  still 
an  uncertain,  rude,  confusing  mixture  of  dialect  forms, 
unwieldy  and  uncouth  in  the  hands  of  those  who  aimed 
at  literary  style.  Chaucer's  usage  was  a  revelation 
to  his  contemporaries,  and  although  neither  they  nor 
his  immediate  successors  were  ever  able  to  manipulate 
its  material  with  the  grace  and  force  of  the  master, 
his  hall-mark,  nevertheless,  was  set  upon  the  literary 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR  STUDY  75 

diction  of  the  kingdom,  and  his  service  in  the  choice 
and  molding  of  its  phraseology  cannot  easily  be  over- 
drawn.1 

Of  complete  editions,  that  edited  by  W.  W.  Skeat  (Ox 
ford,  1894,  7  vols.)  is  authoritative.      The  Poeti-   sugges- 
cal  Works  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  edited  by  Arthur   ^ons  lor 
Gilman    (Houghton,  Mifflin  and   Company,  Bos-   Chaucer, 
ton,  1880,  3  vols.),  is  conveniently  arranged,  and   Texts, 
lias    an    excellent  introduction  upon   "The  Times  and   the 
Poet."     The  Globe  Chaucer,  edited  by  Alfred  W.  Pollard 
(Macmillan,  1898),  contains  the  complete  text  in  a  single 
volume.     There  are  numerous  editions  of  the  Prologue,  with, 
and  without,  one  or  more  of  the  Tales.     Those  published  by 
the  Clarendon  Press  are  among  the  best  known.     The  stu- 
dent cannot  do  better  than  supply  himself  with  the  scholarly 
edition,  by  Frank  Jewett  Mather,  Jr.,  of  the  Prologue,  The 
Knight 's  Tale,  and  The  Nun's  Priest 's  Tale  (Houghton, 
Mifflin  and  Company,  1899). 

Two  valuable  works  especially  useful  in  presenting  the 
social  conditions  of  the  age  are  English  Wayfar-  chauc9r's 
ing  Life  in  the  XlVth  Century  and  A  Liter-  Times. 
ary  History  of  the  English  People  (Putnam,  1895),  both 
by  J.  J.  Jusserand.  See  also  Wright's  History  of  Do- 
mestic Manners  and  Sentiments  in  England  during  the 
Middle  Ages  and  Browne's  Chaucer's  England.  Sidney 
Lanier's  Boy's  Froissart  may  well  be  read. 

The  essay  on  Chaucer,  by  J.  R.  Lowell,  in  My  Study 
Windows,  or  vol.  iv.  of  Lowell's  Works  (Hough-  Biography, 
ton,  Mifflin  and  Company),  is  one  of  the  best  Criticism, 
appreciations  of  the  English  poet  ever  written.  Ward's 
Chaucer,  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  is  a  con- 
venient brief  biography  ;  still  more  condensed  is  the  Chau- 
cer by  A.  W.  Pollard  in  English  Literature  Primer  Series 
(Macmillan).  The  chapters  on  Chaucer  in  vol.  ii.  of  Ten 
Brink's  English  Literature   (English  translation,  Holt)   is 

1  Compare  on  this  point,  J.  R.  Lowell,  My  Study  Windows,  p.  257. 


76  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN  PERIOD 

especially  commended.  Vol.  iv.  of  Morley's  English  Wri- 
ters also  is  full  of  valuable  material  for  the  study  of  the 
poet.  A  voluminous  work  in  Chaucer  criticism  is  to  be 
found  in  Lounsbury's  Studies  in  Chaucer  (Harper,  1892, 
3  vols.).  The  Canterbury  Tales,  by  Saunders,  is  full  of 
very  interesting  comment.  But  above  all,  let  the  pupil  be 
careful  to  read  his  Chaucer  itself  as  the  real  subject  of  his 
study,  always  remembering  that  it  is  the  author,  and  not  the 
commentator,  that  he  desires  to  know.  Any  single  one  of  the 
authorities  mentioned  may  prove  sufficient  for  his  purpose 
now.  Let  Shakespeare's  Richard  II.  and  King  Henry  IV. 
be  included. 

The  natural  beginning  for  a  study  of  Chaucer's  work  is  the 
The  Pro-  familiar  Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales.  Sup< 
logue.  p0se  that  the  student,  having  become  acquainted 

with  the  text  of  its  850  lines,  first  make  a  classification  of 
the  characters  thus  introduced.  He  will  find  representatives 
of  the  Chivalry  of  Chaucer's  time,  of  the  Church,  the  Pro- 
fessions, the  Gentry,  of  Commerce  and  Trade.  Let  him 
note  the  breadth  of  representation  thus  secured  and  consider 
the  several  classes  in  their  types.  Which  of  the  individual 
characters  are  most  favorably  presented  ?  Point  out  some 
ironical  touches  in  the  portraitures.  What  is  Chaucer's  in- 
tent in  lines  183,  251,  395,  438,  444,  648,  708  ?  Find  illus- 
trations of  Chaucer's  humor :  what  do  you  think  of  its 
quality  ?  Examine  some  of  the  descriptions  which  present 
the  characters  unfavorably.  Is  the  poet  severe  in  his  cen- 
sure ?  What  is  his  method  of  suggesting  our  disapproval  ? 
If  you  are  familiar  with  Langland's  Vision  of  Piers  Plow- 
man, compare  the  methods  of  these  two  poets.  Do  you  find 
in  the  Prologue  any  traces  of  Chaucer's  love  of  nature  as  set 
forth  in  poetical  comparisons  ?  Note  lines  170,  268  :  what 
similar  comparisons  do  you  find  in  the  description  of  the 
Shipman,  and  elsewhere,  particularly  in  the  first  eighteen 
verses  of  the  poem. 

Now  turning  more  directly  to  the  text,  notice  some  of 
these  details  :  what  is  the  precise  date  of  the  pilgrimage,  as 
set  forth  in  poetical  language  ?     Compare  lines  12-14  with 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  77 

the  Wife  of  Bath's  wanderings,  lines  463-466.  Where  was 
Southwark,  and  where  Cantei-bury  ?  What  was  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  name  Tabard,  given  to  the  inn  ?  The  company 
of  pilgrims  is  recorded  as  "  Wei  nyne  and  twenty  :  "  do  you 
find  this  to  he  exact  ?  What  do  you  think  of  Chaucer's 
"  setting "  of  his  poem  as  compared  with  Boccaccio  in  the 
Decameron  ?  It  is  impossible  to  suggest  here  a  detailed  study 
of  the  text,  but  the  student  should  notice  carefully  some 
points  in  the  language  and  vocabulary.  For  instance,  licour, 
vertu,  engendred,  flour,  are  French  words  developed  out  of 
Latin  forms  :  see  how  many  words  of  similar  origin  are  to 
be  found  in  the  first  forty  lines.  Compare  what  Lowell  says 
in  his  essay  (My  Study  Windows,  p.  257)  upon  Chaucer's 
diction. 

Holt  and  heeth,  fowles,  halwes,  are  of  Teutonic  origin  ; 
make  a  list  of  similar  Saxon  words  in  the  same  forty  lines, 
and  note  especially  those  that  have  changed  in  form  or 
usage  since  Chaucer's  time.  What  is  the  precise  meaning  of 
sorages  (line  11)  and  corage  (line  22),  couthe  (line  14)  ? 
compare  with  can  (line  210)  and  coude  (line  467),  and  else- 
where. In  what  form  does  modern  English  retain  this 
original  meaning  of  the  verb  ?  Explain  the  use  of  aventure 
(line  25),  forward  (line  33).  What  other  word  besides  hos- 
telrye  (line  23)  does  the  poet  use  for  inn  ?  Compare  their 
etymology. 

Is  Chaucer's  Knyght  to  be  taken  as  representing  universally 
the  chivalry  of  his  day  ?  What  opportunities  had  the  poet 
had  to  observe  the  character  of  knight  and  squire  ?  How 
far  had  this  Knyght  traveled  according  to  account  ?  What 
is  meant  by  the  term  vileinye  (line  70),  gentil  (line  72)  ? 
From  the  description  of  the  Squyer,  what  seem  to  have  been 
the  duties  of  his  rank  ?  Does  the  account  of  his  accomplish- 
ments indicate  a  frivolous  character  ?  How  did  the  Yeman 
come  to  know  so  much  of  woodcraft  ?  Are  you  acquainted 
with  Scott's  picture  of  Locksley,  the  forester,  in  Ivanhoe? 
In  these  three  portraits  note  some  of  the  lines  which  are  par- 
ticularly effective  in  picturesque  quality :  e.  g.  lines  89,  109. 
Try  to  discover  Chaucer's  remarkable  gift  in  portraiture,  so 


78  THE  ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

brief,  yet  so  effective.  What  seems  to  be  Chaucer's  feeling 
toward  the  Prioresse  ?  Her  name  is  recorded  :  what  other 
of  the  pilgrims  are  referred  to  thus  personally  ?  Compare 
the  account  of  her  table  manners  with  the  extract,  in  Skeat's 
edition  of  the  Prologue,  from  a  contemporary  book  on  eti- 
quette. See  how  much  of  suggestive  description  is  contained 
in  lines  151-162.  It  would  be  interesting  to  make  a  special 
study  of  the  costuming  of  these  pilgrims  ;  the  poet  gives 
many  details.  What  ornaments,  for  example,  are  worn  by 
the  various  characters  ?  From  Chaucer's  portraiture  of  the 
Monk  and  the  Frere  what  should  be  our  estimate  of  the 
classes  thus  represented  ?  Pick  out  suggestive  passages  that 
indicate  their  character,  —  some  that  are  especially  good  in 
setting  forth  their  personal  appearance.  Study  the  origin  and 
force  of  the  following  words :  venerye  (line  166),  chapel 
(line  173),  cloistre  (line  181),  wood  (line  184),  pricasour 
(line  189),  in  good  poynt  (line  200),  palfrey  (line  207), 
overal  (line  216), penaunce  (line  223),  tappestere  (line  241), 
beggestere  (line  242),  poraille  (line  247),  povre  (line  260). 

In  the  way  already  suggested,  study  the  remaining  por- 
traits ;  numerous  lines  for  side-study  will  appear.  The 
guilds,  the  ordres  foure,  the  practice  of  medicine,  the  Par- 
doner 's  tricks,  the  recipes  suggested  by  the  Cook  —  com- 
ments upon  these  topics  will  be  found  in  many  of  the  texts. 
Words  like  catel  (line  373),  purchas  (line  256),  achat  (line 
571),  ounces  (line  677), persoun  (line  478),  viage(\ine  723), 
avis  (line  786),  Withsaye  (line  805),  should  be  carefully 
examined ;  indeed  a  close  dependence  upon  a  glossary  is 
absolutely  essential  to  an  intelligent  reading  of  the  poem  : 
too  many  pupils  lazily  guess  at  the  meaning  of  Chaucer's 
words. 

There  is  no  opportunity  in  these  suggestions  to  refer  to 
pronunciation  or  to  grammatical  forms  ;  these  matters  must 
be  studied  with  other  aids,  and  will  be  found  discussed  in 
editions  like  that  of  Mather,  already  recommended.  When 
these  points  are  more  or  less  familiar,  some  portions  of  the 
Prologue  may  be  learned  by  heart  and  repeated  often 
aloud.     Effective  passages  may  be  selected  anywhere,  but 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  79 

the  student  should  certainly  commit  the  first  twenty-seven 
lines  of  the  poem,  and  parts,  if  not  all,  of  Chaucer's  descrip- 
tion of  the  Oxford  clerk  and  the  " poore  Persoun  of  a  toun." 
These  are  special  gems. 

In  proceeding  with  the  study  of  this  tale,  remember  that 
Chaucer  appears  now  in  a  role  slightly  different  Knight's 
from  that  assumed  in  the  Prologue.  Here  we  Tale- 
have  the  story-teller  in  actual  fact,  and  it  must  be  ours  to 
appreciate  the  quality  of  the  narrative  as  such,  and  to  note 
the  marks  that  make  this  narrative  essentially  Chaucerian. 
The  tale  itself  is  not  original  with  Chaucer ;  the  basis  of  it 
is  found  in  a  romance  by  Boccaccio,  but  the  treatment  of 
motive,  incident,  and  character  is  practically  Chaucer's.  A 
clear  comparison  between  the  English  romance  and  the 
Italian  story  is  to  be  found  in  Mather's  introduction,  pp. 
lxi.-lxxiii.  As  we  read,  it  will  be  natural  to  notice  the 
entire  appropriateness  of  ascribing  this  tale  to  the  Knight, 
whose  character,  given  in  the  prologue,  is  so  consistent  with 
the  dignified  and  chivalric  tone  of  the  story.  The  characters 
of  Theseus  and  Hypolita  are  met  with  elsewhere  in  English 
literature :  are  you  acquainted  with  Shakespeare's  poetical 
drama,  A  Midsummer  Night 's  Dream  ?  In  studying  this 
narrative,  note  where  the  introduction  ends  and  the  real 
story  of  Palamon  and  Arcite  begins ;  but  in  the  introductory 
section  notice  the  effective  points  in  the  account  of  the 

"  Companye  of  ladies,  tweye  and  tweye, 
Ech  after  other,  clad  in  clothes  Make," 

with  their  piteous  cry  and  the  quick  response  — 

"  This  gentil  duk  down  from  his  courser  sterte 
With  herte  pitous,  whan  he  herde  hem  speke," 

and  in  description  of    the  war  on  Thebes,  beginning  (line 

117) 

"  The  rede  statue  of  Mars  with  spere  and  targe, 
So  shyneth  in  his  white  baner  large, 
That  alle  tho  feeldes  glitteren  up  and  doun,"  etc. 

Having  reached  the  account  of  the  finding  Arcite  and  Pala- 
mon among  the  wounded,  and    their  subsequent    captivity. 


80  THE   ANGLO-NORMAN   PERIOD 

what  seems  to  he  the  prime  motive  of  the  story  that  would 
naturally  develop  out  of  such  a  situation  ?  Note  in  order  the 
successive  incidents  that  supply  the  narrative.  Do  these  in- 
cidents occur  naturally,  or  do  they  seem  artificial  ?  With  this 
in  mind  study  carefully  the  account  of  the  cousins'  discovery 
of  Emily  in  the  garden ;  their  sentiments,  as  each  expresses 
the  effect  of  her  beauty,  and  their  subsequent  quarrel  (lines 
204-328).  In  the  same  way  study  the  description  of  Emily 
(lines  175-197).  Find  other  portions  of  narrative  and  de- 
scriptive writing  in  the  poem,  and  point  out  special  excel- 
lences or,  what  seem  to  you,  defects.  Note  the  forceful 
portraiture  of  Emetrius  and  Lygurge  (lines  1270-1330).  In 
your  own  words  describe  the  general  appearance  of  the  lists, 
of  which  the  poet  furnishes  such  full  details.  Now  write 
the  story  of  the  tournament  as  recounted  in  the  poem. 
Characterize  the  narrative  of  Arcite's  death  and  funeral: 
how  are  you  impressed  by  the  account  ?  Show  the  general 
fitness  of  the  outcome  in  the  light  of  Palamon  and  Arcite's 
prayers  and  vows  before  the  encounter.  Do  you  suppose 
that  this  appropriate  issue  of  events  just  happens,  or  is 
this  singular  fulfillment  of  the  prodigies  only  an  evidence  of 
a  careful  art  which  foresaw  the  coincidence  before  it  came  ? 
Point  out  any  artistic  details  of  this  sort  that  you  discover. 
What  do  you  think  of  the  portrait  of  King  Theseus  himself, 

—  do  you  find  "characterization  "  sufficient  to  outline  a  real 
personality  ?  Tell  what  sort  of  a  man  he  was.  What  can 
you  say  for  Emily,  the  heroine,  —  is  her  portraiture  distinct  ? 
Cite  some  passages  that  show  the  poet's  love  for  nature  and 
enjoyment  of  natural  phenomena.  Compare  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  sunrise  (lines  633-G38),  and  numerous  single 
verses  scattered  through  the  poem.  Here  and  there  one 
comes  on  lines  which  seem  to  express  the  poet's  own  thought, 

—  that  give  a  glimpse  of  Chaucer's  heart.  For  example, 
the  sentiment  (line  903), 

"  For  pitie  renneth  soone  in  gentil  herte," 
is  a  favorite  with  the  poet ;  he  uses  it  thrice  elsewhere.     A 
bit  of  experience   is   involved   in  the    couplet   (lines  1589- 
1590) 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY 


81 


"  As  sooth  is  sayd,  elde  hath  greet  avautage, 
In  elde  is  both  wisdom  and  usage." 

Somewhat  humorously  expressed  is  the  truth  (lines  1901- 
1902) 

"  And  certeinly,  ther  nature  wol  nat  wirche 
Farewel,  physik  !  go  her  the  man  to  chirche." 

The  Knight's  tale  receives  no  further  introduction  than 
that  afforded  by  the  last  thirteen  verses  of  the  t^uu^-. 
Prologue ;  inasmuch  as  the  Nun's  Priest  is  not  Priest's 
formally  presented  in  the  Prologue,  receiving  a  e" 
scanty  mention  as  one  of  Preestes  thre  in  the  retinue  of  the 
Prioress,  it  may  be  interesting  to  read  the  link-word  which 
follows  on  conclusion  of  the  Monk's  tale  and  formally  begins 
that  of  the  Nonne  Preest  (lines  8420-8432)  — 

"  This  sweete  preest,  this  goodly  man,  Sir  John." 

For  a  full  account  of  the  sources  of  this  tale,  see  Mather's 
introduction.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  suggest  material  for 
study  in  this  admirable  story  of  The  Cok  and  Hen.  The 
mock  seriousness  of  this  domestic  epic  is  delightful.  Chaun- 
tecleer  and  Pertelote  are  genuine  "  characters  "  in  every  sense 
of  the  word,  and  by  no  means  confined  in  their  peregrina- 
tions to  this  poure  ividive's  barnyard.  Here  is  an  excellent 
example  of  the  poet's  humor,  pervasive  and  yet  well  in  hand, 
to  be  read  appreciatively  and  enjoyed. 

The  development  of  English  literature  during  the  Anglo- 
Norman  period  is  as  follows  :  — 


The  Rulers. 


WUliam  I. 

(1066-87). 
Stephen 
(1135-54). 


Edward  III. 

(1327-77). 

RicViard  II. 

(1377-99). 


Romances. 


Norman-French 
Romance. 

Anglo-Norman 
Romance. 

King  Horn  (13th 
century). 

Mandeville's  Tra- 
vels (1356). 

Troilus  and  Cri- 
seyde  (1380  ?). 

Confessio  Amantis 
(1385). 

Canterbury  Tales 
(1400). 


Chronicles. 


Anglo-Saxon  Chro- 
nicle (to  1154). 

Wace's  Brut 
(1155). 

Layamon's  Brut 
(1205). 

Robert  of  Glouces- 
ter's Chronicle 
(1300?). 

(English  was  legal- 
ly recognized  in 
1362.) 


Moralizing  Verse. 


Poema  Morale 

(1160). 
Ormulum  (1225?). 

Piers  Plowman 
(1362). 

(Wyclif 's  Bible 
was  completed 
about  1382.) 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  FIFTEENTH  AND  SIXTEENTH  CENTURIES 

FROM   CHAUCER   TO    SHAKESPEARE 

I.   The  Fifteenth  Century:  The  Renascence. 
II.  The  First  Half  of  the  Sixteenth  Century:    From  the 
Accession  of  Henry  VIII.  (1509)  to  the  Accession  of 
Elizabeth  (1558). 

III.  Representative   Prose   and  Verse  in  the  Elizabethan 

Age. 

IV.  The  Development  of  the  English  Drama. 
V.   William  Shakespeare  and  his  Successors. 

I.    THE   FIFTEENTH    CENTURY  :    THE   RENASCENCE. 

The  century  immediately  following  that  of  Chaucer 
and  his  contemporaries  is  apparently  one  of  the  most 
unproductive  in  the  history  of  English  literature.  It 
is  to  be  recognized,  however,  as  a  time  of  preparation, 
and  not  without  its  important  achievements. 

The  fifteenth  century  was  the  century  of  the  "  new 
The  Re-  birth,"  or  renascence,  of  learning  and  art  in 
nascence.  the  life  of  the  modern  world.  It  was  a  period 
of  invention  and  discovery,  producing  results  which 
were  momentous  in  subsequent  history.  New  ideas 
poured  in  upon  men's  minds  and  gr<Kitly  changed  the 
manner  of  thinking  in  philosophy,  art,  literature,  poli- 
tics, and  religion.  The  whole  of  Europe  was  under 
the  spell  of  this  new-born  spirit  of  light  and  progress, 
but  the  centre  of  greatest  influence  and  the  chief  source 
of  power  was  Italy,  the  home  of  Dante  and  Petrarch ; 


THE   PRINTING-PRESS  83 

of  da  Vinci,  Raphael,  and  Michelangelo  ;  of  the  Me- 
dici family,  magnificent  patrons  of  learning  and  art, 
and  of  hundreds  of  scholars  whose  names  are  less  fa- 
miliar, but  who  .created  a  taste  for  the  literature  and 
thought  of  the  classic  age  and  taught  that  literature  in 
the  schools  of  Padua,  Bologna,  Venice,  and  Florence. 
This  Revival  of  Letters  was  stimulated  by  the  fall  of 
Constantinople  in  1453,  which  sent  swarms  of  Greek 
scholars  westward  into  Europe,  bearing  precious  manu- 
scripts of  Greek  philosophers  and  poets  to  quicken 
enthusiasm  for  the  study  of  this  new-old  literature. 
In  Germany  the  new  spirit  of  freedom  in  thought  pro- 
duced the  Reformation,  and  the  scholarship  of  Melanch- 
thon,  Reuchlin,  and  Erasmus.  In  England  these  new 
ideas,  heralded  in  the  preceding  century  by  Wyclif  and 
Chaucer,  were  fostered  and  taught  by  Grocyn,  Eras- 
mus, Colet,  Ascham,  and  More.  New  colleges  were 
established  at  Cambridge  and  Oxford,  and  public 
schools  were  founded  here  and  there  in  the  kingdom. 
As  feudalism  decayed,  the  rights  of  the  untitled  class 
were  recognized  and  a  new  independence  was  given  to 
the  commoner. 

Most  important  of  all  the  inventions  that  make  this 
age  remarkable,  greatest  of  all  inventions  in  the  far- 
reaching;  effects  of  its  use,  is  that  which  made   _ 

.      .  The 

possible  the  printing  of  books  by  means  of  Printing- 
movable  types.  The  process  of  block-print-  Press' 
ing  from  wooden  slabs  on  which  were  cut  the  letters 
of  a  single  page  had,  to  some  extent,  displaced  the 
painful  art  of  transcribing  on  parchment  and  vellum 
the  exquisite  copies  of  the  earlier  manuscripts ;  but 
the  use  of  separate  types  in  the  printing  of  books  ap- 
pears to  have  been  the  invention  of  John  Gutenberg, 
of  the  German  city  of  Mainz,  about  1450.  In  Ger- 
many and  the  Netherlands  the  first  printers  plied  their 


M  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

art,  and  some  time  in  the  last  quarter  of  the  century, 
when  the  ruinous  Wars  of  the  Roses  were  approach- 
ing their  conclusion,  the  Englishman,  William  Caxton, 
learned  the  practice  of  the  craft,  and  introduced  print- 
ing into  England. 

Caxton  was  originally  in  the  employ  of  a  silk  mer- 
chant in  London,  and  had  settled  in  the  Low 
William         _  .  _ 

Caxton,  Countries  at  Bruges.  Here  he  became  mter- 
1422  ?-9i.    es^e(j  [n  tne  new  craft  and  here,  in  1474,  he 

put  through  the  press  the  first  book  printed  in  English, 
The  Recuyellof  the  History es  of  Tvoye.  In  1476  Cax- 
ton returned  to  England  with  a  press,  the  first  in  the 
kingdom,  which  he  established  at  Westminster.  The 
title  of  the  first  book  from  this  press  is  the  Dictes  and 
Sayings  of  the  Philosojjhers  (1477).  The  name  of 
this  first  English  printer  may  well  be  honored.  Not 
only  was  Caxton  a  translator  of  many  texts,  but  his 
choice  of  works  for  publication  is  admirable  and  attests 
his  literary  instinct.  In  1485  he  printed  a  volume 
Slr  which  had  been  completed  fifteen  years  be- 

Thomas  fore  by  an  English  writer  of  whom  we  know 
about  '  almost  nothing,  —  Malory's  Morte  Darthur, 
147°-  a    splendid   collection   of  the   tales  of   King 

Arthur  and  his  knights,  told  in  vigorous  and  melodi- 
ous English  prose. 

Nearly  one  hundred  volumes,  altogether,  were  printed 
on  Caxton's  presses  ;  conspicuous  among  them  two  or 
three  editions  of  The  Canterbury  Tales,  and  other  works 
of  Chaucer,  besides  the  compositions  of  Lydgate  and 
Gower,  his  contemporaries. 

Scotland  as  well  as  England  has  a  part  —  and  no 
unworthy  one  —  in  the  story  of  the  literature 
Scotch  common    to    them    both.      Early    chroniclers 

among  the  Scotch  had  told  in  verse  the  ex- 
ploits of  Bruce  and   Wallace,  national  heroes  of  their 


0?ct  efrte  mac*  out  oft  to  $6  euctgclpn 

a  3U&?  to  foujxre  fetfe  fr  3o  cmOfl 

&e  fctuefc?  So  Ibptf)  SgfoyK  At  $e  fc/ft 
#ttongz  lbae  $e  ibgnc  g  ib*C  OjgnGe  fo  Sgffc 

2t  faneCg  man  out  ofte  ibae  ibptQ  affc 

$otfo  fe  a  marcfaC  in  a  fi»&6  faffc 

Qt  Patge  man  Oe  Ibas  tbgf9  cgcn  (fe^s 

21  fajwt  Butgegc  ieT^ct  non  nj  cffcjx 

(*3oft>?  of  $50  frecfr  ana?  Ibe?  ibae  j?  fiuigQf 

3tn&?  of  manfcoo?  *ac6eo2  9?  **3#  nought 

£6et§ettb  tbae  pe  tic#*  0  metg  maij 

2tn&?  offit  fbuff>et  to  pfegcn  fc  fcgo'n 

QtnJ>?  foaB  of  myttfc  a.mongz  ot§et  H^ngce 

M)0ai)  tyat  ibe  fciote  mafc  out  teflenpngMJ 

JE)«  fago?  tfjue  nolb  fosogngee  tteuCg 

$>e  fe  to  merigf)*  IbeDcomcfttfPp 

;ffoi  6p  mp  frotbt§e  gf  3  fftrt  no*  Cg« 

£J  (alb  not  tffee  8«t  (0  mcrp  a  tompanpc 


FACSIMILE    OF    A    PAGE    FROM    CAXTON  S    SECOND    EDITION    OF 
CHAUCER'S   CANTERBURY   TALES,    PRINTED  ABOUT   1484 

(The  text  reproduced  includes  lines  747-764  of  the  Prologue,  describing  the  Host 
and  his  hospitable  welcome  to  the  pilgrims  gathered  about  his  table.  The  artist  did 
not  succeed  in  introducing  the  entire  company  of  nine  and  twenty  guests  who  sat 
down  together  at  the  Tabard,  but  we  have  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the  worthy 
Knight  and  his  son  at  tl>e  right  of  the  Host,  and  Madame  Eglentine,  the  lady  Prior- 
ess, at  his  left.  Next  to  the  young  Squire,  with  face  turned  more  directly  to  the 
front,  sits  Chaucer  himself.) 


86     FROM  CHAUCER  TO  SHAKESPEARE 

rocky  soil,  just  as  the  English  rhymers  of  a  contempo- 
rary or  an  earlier  time  had  rehearsed  the  deeds  of  Eng- 
lish champions.  But  James  I.  was  one  of  the  earliest 
representatives  of  the  land  of  Burns  and  Scott  to  grace 
our  literature  with  the  beauty  and  sweetness  of  genu- 
ine song. 

In  1405  James,  who  was  then  a  boy  of  only  eleven 
King  years,  became  a  state  prisoner  at  the  English 

James  i..      court.     From    that   time    till   his  release   in 

1394- 

1437.  1424    he    remained    in    England,    enjoying 

every  privilege  save  that  of  freedom,  and  cultivating 
his  love  of  music  and  of  verse.  While  confined  at 
Windsor  Castle  he  saw  from  his  window,  one  May 
morning,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Som- 
erset walking  in  the  castle  garden  ;  and  the  love  of  the 
royal  youth  for  this  lady  inspired  The  Kyyige's  Quhair 
(quire,  book).  This  poem,  consisting  of  197  seven-line 
stanzas,  is  full  of  the  influence  of  Chaucer  and  Gower, 
whose  disciple  James  frankly  avowed  himself  to  be. 
From  the  king's  use  of  this  particular  stanza  form,  it 
has  since  been  called  "  rhyme  royal ;  "  it  has  held  a  dis- 
tinguished place  in  the  compositions  of  some  later  poets. 
Again,  at  the  close  of  the  century  there  were  in  Scot- 
land two  poets  of  considerable  imaginative 
and  '  power  and  artistic  skill  whose  work  reflects 

Douglas.       the  spirit  of  this  eraj  although  the  best  of  it 

appeared  after  1500.  These  were  William  Dunbar, 
author  of  The  Thistle  and  the  Hose  (1503)  and  The 
Golden  Targe  (1508)  ;  and  Gavin  Douglas,  who  wrote 
The  Palace  of  Honor  (1501)  and  translated  Ovid  and 
Vergil  (1513). 

Of  English  versifiers  there  were  in  the  first  half  of 
English  the  century  two  whose  names  are  usually  re- 
Poetry.  corded  :  John  Lydgate  and  Thomas  Occleve, 
unskillful  imitators  of  Geoffrey  Chaucer.    In  the  latter 


JOHN   SKELTON  87 

half  of  this  period  also  lived  Stephen  Hawes,  author  of 
a  long,  laborious  allegory,  The  Pastime,  of  Pleasure. 
More  noteworthy  than  the  labored  writings  of  these 
men  are  the  rough  rhymes  and  blunt  wit  of  John 
Skelton,  whose  life  extended  over  the  first  quarter  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  whose  verse  forms  a  sig- 
nificant link  between  the  old  poetry  and  the  new. 

A  clergyman  by  profession,  Skelton  was  endowed 
with  a  rough  and  ready  wit  which  expressed  joim 
itself  with  both  coarseness  and  vigor.  He  f£go°n' 
studied  at  the  two  great  universities  and  re-  1529- 
ceived  the  purely  academic  honor  of  laureate  from  each. 
His  scholarship  was  such  that  he  was  appointed  tutor 
to  the  young  prince,  afterward  King  Henry  VIII.  The 
greater  part  of  Skelton's  verse  consists  of  a  rude  jingle 
more  indicative  of  ready  wit  than  of  poetic  fire.  He 
was  better  as  a  satirist  than  in  any  other  role,  and  in 
that  vein  composed  his  Bowge  [Pewards]  of  Courte, 
Colyn  Cloute,  and  Why  Come  Ye  not  to  Courte  ?  He 
directed  his  satires  against  corruption  in  Church  and 
State,  and  even  dared  a  vigorous  attack  on  the  powerful 
Wolsey,  whose  anger  the  poet  escaped  only  by  taking 
sanctuary  at  Westminster,  where  he  died  in  1529.  Of 
his  various  effusions  Skelton  himself  declares  :  — 

"  Though  my  ryme  be  ragged 
Tattered  and  jagged, 
Rudely  rain-beaten, 
Rust  and  moth-eaten, 
If  ye  take  well  therewith, 
It  hath  in  it  some  pith." 

Perhaps  this  is  the  best  that  can  be  said  for  Skelton's 
poetry,  although  there  are  among  his  efforts  a  few  com- 
positions that  show  real  poetic  merit. 

A  distinct  literary  product  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
by  far  the   most    impressive    illustration    of    genuine 


88  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

poetic  power  that  it  produced,  is  the  voluminous  col- 
The  lection   of    Scotch  and  Border   Ballads,   the 

Ballads.  greater  part  of  which  seem  to  have  had  their 
origin  during  this  period.  Folk  poetry  in  the  truest 
sense,  these  ballads  represent  the  work  of  unknown 
authors.  Their  material  is  that  which  naturally  im- 
presses itself  on  the  popular  mind :  stirring  chronicles 
of  war,  the  pathetic  and  the  romantic  incidents  of 
man's  common  experience,  the  mysterious  occurrences 
that  imply  a  supernatural  source.  The  treatment  is 
invariably  simple  and  naive,  while  the  very  artlessness 
of  the  narrative  appeals  with  unusual  force  to  the  imagi- 
nation and  emotions  of  the  reader.  Of  one  of  the  most 
famous  ballads,  Chevy  Chase,  Sir  Philip  Sidney  de- 
clared that  its  recital  moved  his  heart  more  than  a 
trumpet.  Familiar  among  these  ballads,  at  least  by 
name,  are  those  Lytell  Gestes  of  Robin  Hood  which 
relate  the  bold  deeds  of  that  "  good  outlaw  "  of  Sher- 
wood, and  of  his  comrades,  Little  John  and  Friar  Tuck. 
The  pathetic  songs  of  The  Two  Children  in  the  Wood, 
Patient  Grissel,  and  The  Nutbrowne  Maid,  belong  to 
another  interesting  class  of  these  folk  poems,  while  the 
weird  ballads  of  The  Twa  Corbies  and  The  Cruel  Sister 
illustrate  another. 

A  famous  collection  of  these  ballads  was  brought  to- 
gether by  Bishop  Percy,  and  published  in  1765  under 
the  title  of  Percy's  Iieliques  of  Ancient  English  Po- 
etry. Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  was  irresistibly  attracted 
toward  such  material,  gathered  a  similar  collection, 
published  in  1802,  as  Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Bor- 
der. An  exhaustive  study  of  these  ballads  is  found  in 
Professor  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Popidar  Bal- 
lads.1 

1  See  also  English  and  Scottish  Popular  Ballads  (edited  from  the 
edition  of  F.  J.  Child),  1  vol.,  by  Helen  C.  Sargent  and  George 


SIR  THOMAS   MORE  89 

II.     THE    SIXTEENTH    CENTURY. 

To  the  Accession  of  Elizabeth,  1558. 

However  sluggish  its  development  through  the  pe- 
riod just  considered,  in  the  time  of  Henry  VIII.  (1509- 
47)  English  literature  took  a  new  start.  In  both  prose 
and  verse  the  spirit  of  the  Renascence  is  clearly  seen, 
and  it  is  not  difficult  to  trace  the  forces  which  reached 
their  climax  in  the  creations  of  the  Elizabethan  age. 
The  impulse  of  the  New  Learning  is  especially  distinct 
in  the  prose  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  William  Tyndale, 
and  Roger  Ascham.  The  development  of  modern  Eng- 
lish verse  is  found  in  the  poems  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt 
and  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Surrey. 

Among  the  scholars  who  gave  distinction  intellec- 
tually to  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  there  is  Slr 
none  better  known  for  integrity  as  well  as  wis-  Thomas 
dom  than   Sir  Thomas  More,  the  author  of  i48o- 
Utopia.     More  was  born  in  London  in  1480.   1B36- 
He  studied  law,   but  was  fonder   of    his  Greek  texts 
than  of  his  legal  practice.     Nevertheless  he  advanced 
rapidly  at  court,  and  on  the  death  of  Wolsey  was  ap- 
pointed Lord  High  Chancellor  by  the  king.     But  the 
troublous  years  of  Henry's  reign  soon  followed  ;  and  in 
the  midst  of  events  which  caused  the  wreck  of  many 
a  career,  Sir  Thomas  More  fell  a  victim  to  his  religious 
convictions,  and  paid  with  his  life  the  penalty  of  oppos- 
ing Henry's  will. 

More's  Life  of  Edward  V.  (1513 ;  printed  1557) 
is  the  first  essay  in  careful  history  that  we  possess.  His 
Utopia  (written  in  Latin,  and  printed  at  Louvain  in 
1516  ;  translated  into  English  by  Ralph  Robinson  in 
1551)  is    one    of  our    earliest  studies  in    the  field  of 

L.   Kittredge   (Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.),  and  Gummere's  Old 
English  Ballads  (Ginn). 


90     FROM  CHAUCER  TO  SHAKESPEARE 


\ 


social  science.  The  narrative  tells  of  a  wonderful  coun- 
try, the  State  of  Nowhere,  —  a  land  where  religion  is 
left  to  the  individual  conscience,  and  war  is  considered 
an  evil ;  where  citizens  study  the  problems  of  labor 
and  crime,  and  seek  how  to  promote  the  interests  of 
public  health,  education,  and  comfort.  The  Utopia 
was  a  direct  product  of  the  New  Learning,  and  was  in- 
stinct with  the  genius  of  common  sense.  Dream  though 
it  was,  much  of  its  theory  has  worked  its  way  into  the 
constitution  of  modern  England  ;  and  the  book  has  in- 
spired many  imitators  in  this  field. 

Another  industrious  scholar,  exactly  contemporane- 
wniiam  ous  with  More,  but  one  who,  in  the  struggle 
i490^18'  attendant  on  the  Reformation,  was  enrolled 
1536.  upon  the  Protestant  side,  was  William  Tyn- 

dale.  Tyndale  was  a  second  Wyclif.  Early  in  life  he 
avowed  his  sympathy  with  Luther  and  his  followers, 
declaring  his  purpose  to  make  it  possible  for  every 
English  ploughboy  to  know  the  Scriptures  well.  His 
translation  of  the  New  Testament  was  made  in  Ant- 
werp and  was  printed  in  1525.  The  rapid  circulation 
of  Tyndale's  version  through  Europe  and  England 
roused  bitter  opposition  from  the  adherents  of  the  pope, 
—  an  opposition  in  which  Sir  Thomas  More  was  con- 
spicuous, —  and  the  reformer  was  compelled  to  find 
asylums  in  various  lands.  In  these  retreats  he  contin- 
ued his  translation  of  the  Old  Testament ;  but  while  his 
work  was  still  fragmentary,  Tyndale  was  betrayed  to 
his  enemies  ;  after  imprisonment  for  about  two  years, 
he  was  strangled  at  the  stake,  and  his  body  was  burned. 

It  was  Tyndale's  version,  made  complete  by  additions 

from  the  work  of  Miles  Coverdale,  Bishop  of 

English        Exeter,  —  who,  in  1535,  published  the  first 

printed  translation  of  the  entire  Bible,  —  that 

formed  the  basis  of  the  revised  translation  which  ap- 


THE  ENGLISH   BIBLE  91 

peared  under  Archbishop  Cranmer's  sanction  in  1540, 
—  usually  called  Cranmers  Bible,  or,  from  its  size,  The 
Great  Bible.  v  Thus  the  work  begun  in  the  quiet  rec- 
tory at  Lutterworth  by  John  Wyclif,  first  of  English 
reformers,  proceeded  under  conditions  sometimes  hos- 
tile, sometimes  friendly.  The  history  of  the  English 
Bible  is  indeed  full  of  intense  dramatic  interest,  for  in 
the  record  of  our  literature  no  other  book  has  held  such 
intimate  relation  to  the  very  lives  and  hearts  of  the 
English  people.  There  are  memories  of  old  translators 
followed  in  death  by  the  savage  bitterness  of  persecu- 
tion which  in  life  they  had  escaped ;  of  the  rummag- 
ing of  students'  chambers,  the  official  search  through 
the  mansions  of  the  rich,  and  the  humbler  homes  of 
peasants  and  mechanics,  to  find  the  sacred  copies  which 
had  been  proscribed  ;  pictures  of  bonfires  in  the  church- 
yard of  Saint  Paul's,  with  Wolsey  sternly  looking  on, 
magnificently  dressed  in  the  purple  and  scarlet  of  his 
ceremonial  robes,  while  in  the  midst  of  a  great  crowd, 
some  jeering  though  others  wept,  the  confiscated  Bibles 
were  emptied  from  huge  baskets  upon  the  flames.  Yet 
fifteen  years  later,  still  in  Henry's  time,  Bibles  were,  by 
royal  order,  placed  in  the  churches  of  England,  and 
readers  appointed  who  read  in  loud,  clear  tones  to  the 
thousands  that  came  at  stated  times  to  hear  the  word 
of  God.  The  famous  Geneva  Bible,  beloved  by  the 
Puritans,  in  the  preparation  of  which  Miles  Coverdale, 
an  exile  in  his  old  age,  had  assisted,  was  published  in 
1560  ;  and  several  translations  less  noted  were  in  use 
during  Elizabeth's  reign.  It  was,  however,  in  the  time 
of  her  successor  that  the  Authorized,  or  King  James, 
version  was  produced.  In  its  preparation  fifty  of  the 
most  prominent  scholars  were  engaged.  At  Cambridge, 
at  Oxford,  and  at  Westminster,  they  worked  in  groups, 
and  met  at  intervals  to  compare  and  criticise  their  work. 


92     FROM  CHAUCER  TO  SHAKESPEARE 

The  labor  of  translation  was  finished  in  three  years, 
and  in  1G11  the  Bible  was  published  with  an  address 
to  the  king.  Again  the  work  of  Tyndale  was  practi- 
cally the  foundation  upon  which  these  new  translators 
built,  and  it  is  thus  to  this  early  reformer  that  we  are  in- 
debted largely  for  the  splendid  diction  of  that  version 
of  the  Scriptures  which  is  still  in  common  use,  and 
which  more  than  any  other  book  has  inspired  the  style 
of  our  best  English  prose. 

A  particularly  attractive  figure  among  the  scholarly 

Englishmen  of  this  time  was  Roger  Ascham, 
Ascham,       generally    known  as  the   tutor  of  the  Lady 

Jane  Grey  and  of  the  Princess,  afterward 
Queen,  Elizabeth.  Dependent  upon  friendly  assistance 
in  securing  an  education,  Ascham  took  his  bachelor's 
degree  at  Cambridge  in  1531,  and  became  a  fellow  of 
the  University  in  the  following  year.  The  young  stu- 
dent was  soon  recognized  as  an  ardent  enthusiast  for 
the  New  Learning,  and  his  room  became  the  resort  for 
many  who  came  to  hear  him  read  and  explain  the 
Greek.  But  Roger  Ascham  was  more  than  a  book- 
worm ;  like  Geoffrey  Chaucer  he  was  willing  to  drop 
his  book  and  his  devotion  for  the  relaxation  and  exer- 
cise of  the  open  air  ;  and  when  the  king  returned  from 
a  campaign  in  France  in  1545,  Ascham  presented  to 
him  a  work  on  archery  entitled  ToxophiluSy  in  which, 
following  the  method  of  dialogue,  he  sets  forth  the  ad- 
vantages of  this  exercise  to  England,  morally  as  well 
as  physically,  and  because  of  the  importance  of  arch- 
ery at  that  period,  for  purposes  of  national  defence. 
Pleased  with  the  essay,  Henry  bestowed  upon  its  au- 
thor a  pension  of  ten  pounds. 

In  1563,  during  a  conversation  with  several  gentle- 
men of  note,  some  expression  of  his  opinion  on  the  sub- 
ject of  education  led  to  the  writing  of  Ascham's  School' 


ROGER   ASCHAM  93 

master,  —  a  work  which  reveals  a  wise  sympathy  with 
the  minds  to  be  taught  and  trained. 

Ascham's  personality  must  have  been  as  amiable  as 
it  was  studious.  Tactful  and  genial,  he  held  the  confi- 
dence of  four  sovereigns,  some  of  whom  were  not  noted 
for  their  constancy.  He  was  rewarded  by  Henry,  and 
honored  by  Edward  ;  though  a  Protestant,  and  never 
suspected  of  undue  subserviency  in  the  matter  of  reli- 
gious conviction,  he  was  retained  by  Mary  in  the  posi- 
tion of  Latin  Secretary,  to  which  he  had  been  appointed 
previous  to  her  reign  ;  and  under  Elizabeth  he  contin- 
ued in  that  responsible  office. 

Ascham  has  been  described  as  a  great  Greek  scholar  : 
his  position  as  Latin  Secretary  for  many  years  attests 
his  proficiency  in  that  language  also  ;  but  it  is  as  a  writer 
of  English,  remarkable  for  its  many  excellencies  of 
style,  that  this  author  is  to  be  remembered  now.  The 
following  passage  from  Toxophilus,  very  near  the  close 
of  the  second  book,  will  serve  to  illustrate  the  quality 
of  Ascham's  composition,  and  may  be  taken  as  a  good 
example  of  the  best  sixteenth-century  prose  :  — 

"  For  having  a  man's  eye  always  on  his  mark,  is  the  only 
way  to  shoot  straight ;  yea,  and  I  suppose,  so  ready  and 
easy  a  way,  if  it  be  learned  in  youth,  and  confirmed  with 
use,  that  a  man  shall  never  miss  therein.  .  .  .  Some  men 
wonder  why,  in  casting  a  man's  eye  at  the  mark,  the  hand 
should  go  straight :  surely  if  he  considered  the  nature  of  a 
man's  eye,  he  would  not  wonder  at  it :  for  this  I  am  certain 
of,  that  no  servant  to  his  master,  no  child  to  his  father,  is 
so  obedient,  as  every  joint  and  piece  of  the  body  is  to  do 
whatsoever  the  eye  bids.  The  eye  is  the  guide,  the  ruler, 
and  the  succorer  of  all  the  other  parts.  The  hand,  the 
foot,  and  other  members,  dare  do  nothing  without  the  eye, 
as  doth  appear  on  the  night  and  dark  corners.  The  eye 
is  the  very  tongue  wherewith  wit  and  reason  doth  speak  to 


94  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

every  part  of  the  body,  and  the  wit  doth  not  so  soon  signify 
a  thing  by  the  eye,  as  every  part  is  ready  to  follow,  or 
rather  prevent  [anticipate]  the  bidding  of  the  eye." 

Under  the  impulse  of  the  various  influences  now  so 
The  New  active,  poetry  began  in  the  time  of  Henry 
Poetry.  VIII.  to  respond  to  the  spirit  of  the  Renas- 
cence, and  to  assume  the  form  and  manner  that  we 
associate  with  modern  English  verse.  We  find  the 
actual  beginnings  in  the  work  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey, 
whose  names  are  appropriately  joined  in  common  re- 
ference. Although  Surrey  was  some  fifteen  years 
younger  than  Wyatt,  the  two  were  brought  together 
by  friendship,  as  well  as  by  a  common  taste  for  letters, 
and  the  younger  poet  followed  the  elder  to  some  extent 
as  his  disciple  in  the  new  art.  Both  were  strongly  in- 
fluenced by  contact  with  Italian  literature,  and  both 
adopted  the  models  of  Italian  verse.  Wyatt  introduced 
the  sonnet,  and  Surrey  was  the  first  of  English  poets  to 
use  blank  verse.  The  history  of  both  men  is  closely 
involved  with  that  of  the  period  in  which  they  lived, 
and  their  work  is  charged  with  the  spirit  of  that  ro- 
mantic time. 

Wyatt  was  a  native  of  Kent.  His  education  he  re- 
sir  ceived  at  Cambridge,  where  he  took  the  mas- 
wyatt88  ters degree  in  1520.  Introduced  at  court  by 
1503-42.  his  father,  who  had  enjoyed  the  favor  of 
Henry  VII.  and  continued  to  hold  responsible  relations 
to  the  court  of  his  successor,  young  Thomas  Wyatt 
received  early  recognition  from  Henry  VIII.  In  1520 
he  was  in  the  suite  of  Sir  Thomas  Cheney,  a  member 
of  the  privy  council  dispatched  on  a  mission  to  the 
king  of  France ;  in  the  next  year  he  joined  the  com- 
pany of  Sir  John  Russell,  special  ambassador  to  Rome, 
and  with  that  nobleman  traveled  in  Italy.  At  various 
times  Wyatt  was  employed  thus  upon  the  king's  busi- 


SIR  THOMAS   WYATT  95 

ness,  and  for  two  years  served  as  resident  ambassador 
at  the  court  of  Charles  V.  in  Spain.  Such  intercourse 
made  Wyatt  perfectly  familiar  with  the  best  literature 
of  his  age,  and  the  natural  influence  of  such  contact  is 
seen  in  his  verse.  Wyatt's  fortunes  suffered  now  and 
then,  as  did  those  of  most  men  who  held  prominent 
place  at  Henry's  court ;  he  was  at  least  twice  a  pris- 
oner in  the  Tower,  once  in  serious  peril  of  his  life,  but 
rather  because  of  jealous  enemies  than  of  his  sovereign's 
displeasure.  All  these  experiences  of  the  uncertain 
tenure  of  high  estate  are  echoed  in  Wyatt's  more  seri- 
ous verse.  But  the  king's  favor  stood  the  courtier-poet 
in  good  stead  ;  the  final  illness  which  resulted  in  his 
death  was  contracted  while  upon  a  mission  of  honor 
attending  the  reception  of  royal  guests. 

Wyatt  was  a  maker  of  verse  all  his  life.  In  his  early 
poems  there  is  more  of  rough  rhyming  than  of  melody ; 
but  he  did  compose  some  charming  measures,  as,  for 
example,  in  one  lyric  often  quoted  :  — 

"  Blame  not  my  Lute  !  for  he  must  sound 
Of  this  or  that  as  liketh  me  ; 
For  lack  of  wit  the  Lute  is  hound 
To  give  such  tunes  as  pleaseth  me  ; 
Though  my  songs  be  somewhat  strange, 
And  speak  such  words  as  touch  thy  change, 
Blame  not  my  Lute  !  " 

In  great  variety  of  rhyme  and  metre  Sir  Thomas  ex- 
perimented with  the  possibilities  of  our  English  versifi- 
cation, incidentally  clearing  the  way  for  many  a  greater 
poet  after  him.  Besides  his  numerous  "  songs  and 
sonnets,"  mainly  love  poems,  Wyatt  wrote  three  excel- 
lent satires  :  Of  the  Mean  and  Sure  Estate,  Of  the 
Courtier's  Life,  and  How  to  Use  the  Court  and 
Himself  therein.  He  also  attempted  a  paraphrase  of 
the  Penitential  Psalms.  His  most  important  contri- 
bution to  literature  was  his  adoption  of  the  sonnet,  a 


96     FROM  CHAUCER  TO  SHAKESPEARE 

poetical  form  used  by  the  Italian  poet  Petrarch,  and 
in  various  modifications  familiar  in  all  literatures  of  a 
later  time.1 

The  following  poem  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  poet's 
metres,  and  also  the  common  theme  of  his  song :  — 

"The  Lover  describeth  his  being  stricken  with  Sight  of 

his  Love. 

"  The  lively  sparks  that  issue  from  those  eyes, 
Against  the  which  there  vailetli  no  defence, 
Have  pierc'd  my  heart,  and  done  it  none  offence, 
With  quaking  pleasure  more  than  once  or  twice. 
Was  never  man  could  any  thing  devise, 
Sunbeams  to  turn  with  so  great  vehemence 
To  daze  man's  sight  as  by  their  bright  presence 
Dazed  am  I ;  much  like  unto  the  guise 
Of  one  stricken  with  dint  of  lightning, 
Blind  with  the  stroke,  and  crying  here  and  there  ; 
So  call  I  for  help,  I  not  [know  not]  when  nor  where, 
The  pain  of  my  fall  patiently  bearing : 

For  straight  after  the  blaze,  as  is  no  wonder, 
Of  deadly  noise  hear  I  the  fearful  thunder." 

The  love  poetry  of  this  period  is  not  to  be  taken  too 
seriously.  Dante's  Beatrice  and  Petrarch's  Laura 
were  reduplicated  many  times  in  the  fancy  of  the 
Elizabethan  poets,  while  Wyatt  and  Surrey  both  seem 
to  have  given  an  English  model  to  these  so-called 
Amourists.  There  is  a  possibility,  however,  that  Wy- 
att, in  the  sonnet  quoted  and  in  other  poems  more 
direct  in  their  allusion,  is  addressing  no  less  a  person- 
age than  the  fascinating  Anne  Boleyn. 

Surrey,  who  with  Wyatt  has  the  distinction  of  head- 

1  The  sonnet  structure  should  be  well  studied.  It  is  deemed  the 
most  perfect  of  verse  arrangements,  and  has  been  employed  with  vary- 
ing success  by  all  the  greater  —  and  most  of  the  lesser — poets  since 
Wyatt's  day.  The  sonnet  by  Wordsworth  On  the  Sonnet  should  be 
read  by  pupils  as  an  ingenious  exercise  in  this  form  of  versification. 
Refer  also  to  The  Sonnet,  its  Origin,  Structure,  etc.,  by  Charles  Tom- 
linson  (Murray) 


EARL  OF  SURREY  97 

ing  the  "  courtly  makers  "  of  the  next  three  reigns,  has 
generally  received  the  larger  share  of  honor  Henry 
as  a  versifier.  Possibly  Wyatt  has  been  un-  Howard, 
derrated  somewhat  in  this  comparison,  but  surrey, 
Surrey's  verse  has  more  ease  and  elegance,  and  1618"47- 
his  metres  are  more  correct  than  Wyatt' s,  if  the  latter 
is  to  be  judged  by  his  weakest  .productions.  Surrey 
was  born  about  1518,  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk. 
Like  Wyatt  he  was  popular  at  court,  and  like  the  elder 
poet  also  he  enjoyed  extended  visits  in  France  and  Italy. 
In  1544  the  Earl  served  as  marshal  of  the  army  in- 
vading France,  and  in  the  following  year  commanded 
at  Guisnes  and  Boulogne.  Meeting  with  defeat,  Sur- 
rey was  superseded,  and  was  afterward,  for  some  indis- 
cretion of  speech,  imprisoned  at  Windsor.  Not  so 
successful  as  Wyatt  in  holding  the  royal  favor,  the 
Earl  of  Surrey,  together  with  his  father,  fell  a  victim 
to  the  irascibility  of  Henry's  last  years.  Only  a  few 
days  before  the  death  of  the  king,  Surrey  was  executed 
for  treason,  on  a  charge  of  having  quartered  the  arms 
of  Edward  the  Confessor  on  his  shield,  —  a  fact  which 
was  distorted  into  a  design  against  the  throne. 

Surrey's  work  is  less  voluminous  than  Wyatt's  ;  it 
includes  sonnets,  poems  in  various  metres,  paraphrases 
of  Ecclesiastes  and  some  of  the  Psalms,  and  a  trans- 
lation in  blank  verse  of  the  second  and  fourth  books 
of  Vergil's  JEneid.  The  Lady  Geraldine,  whose 
identity  has  not  been  satisfactorily  determined,  is  the 
fair  one  to  whom  Surrey's  love  songs  are  addressed. 
The  following  will  show  the  spirit  of  his  verse,  and 
may  be  compared  with  the  sonnet  already  quoted  from 
his  friend  :  — 

"  Description  and  Praise  of  his  Love  Geraldine. 

' '  From  Tuscane  came  my  Lady's  worthy  race  ; 
Fair  Florence  was  sometime  her  ancient  seat. 


98  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

The  western  isle  whose  pleasant  shore  doth  face 
Wild  Camber's  cliffs,  did  give  her  lively  heat. 
Foster'd  she  was  with  milk  of  Irish  breast: 
Her  sire  an  Earl ;  her  dame  of  Prince's  blood. 
From  tender  years  in  Britain  doth  she  rest, 
With  Kinges  child ;  where  she  tasteth  costly  food. 
Hunsdon  did  first  present  her  to  mine  eyen : 
Bright  is  her  hue,  and  Geraldine  she  hight. 
Hampton  me  taught  to  wish  her  first  for  mine  ; 
And  Windsor,  alas !   doth  chase  me  from  her  sight. 
Her  beauty  of  kind  ;  her  virtues  from  above  : 
Happy  is  he  that  can  obtain  her  love  !  "  x 

The  works  of  these  two  poets  were  not  written  foi 
Tottei's  the  public  eye  ;  they  circulated  in  manuscript 
lany,6  onty  from  hand  to  hand  among  the  friends 

1657.  who  composed    the    courtly  circle  in  which 

these  writers  moved.  It  was  not  until  1557  that  the 
"songs  and  sonnets  "of  Wyatt  and  Surrey  appeared 
in  print,  forming  the  larger  part  of  a  collection  known 
as  TotteV s  Miscellany,  which  included  the  poems  of 
several  other  writers,  some  of  whom  are  still  untraced. 
Tottei's  publication  was  the  first  of  a  numerous  series 
of  such  volumes  put  forth  by  enterprising  publishers, 
indicating  the  growing  love  of  poetry,  and  preserving 
some  worthy  compositions  which  might  otherwise  have 
been  lost. 

III.    REPRESENTATIVE   PROSE   AND   VERSE   IN   THE 
ELIZABETHAN    AGE. 

The  man  who  by  common  consent  has  been  selected 
sir  as  the  choicest  type  of  Elizabethan  chivalry  is 

Sidney  *ne  Drave  anc^  courtly  gentleman,  Sir  Philip 

1564-86.  Sidney.  Among  all  the  brilliant  circle  that 
waited  upon  the  queen,  there  was  none  more  gifted  or 
more  admirable  than  he.  Sidney  was  born  at  Pens- 
hurst,  in  Kent.     He  attended   both  universities,  and 

1  The  poems  of  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  with  a  memoir  of  each,  are  pub- 
lished in  the  Riverside  Edition  by  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 


SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY  99 

spent  three  years  in  travel  on  the  Continent.  He  was 
in  Paris  at  the  time  of  the  Huguenot  massacres,  and 
narrowly  escaped  death  on  the  fearful  day  of  St.  Bar- 
tholomew. Returning  to  England  in  his  twenty-first 
year,  the  young  noble  was  introduced  at  court  by  his 
uncle,  the  famous  Leicester,  and  quickly  charmed  the 
fancy  of  the  queen,  who  referred  to  him  as  "  the  jewel 
of  her  dominions  "  and  showered  him  with  her  favors. 
But  Sidney  was  as  high-spirited  as  he  was  gallant,  and 
offended  by  the  inconsistencies  and  fickleness  of  Eliza- 
beth, he  withdrew  after  some  five  years  of  the  cour- 
tier's life  to  the  estate  of  his  sister,  the  Countess  of 
Pembroke,  at  Wilton.  Later  he  was  again  at  court ; 
was  knighted  in  1583  ;  in  1585  was  ordered  to  accom- 
pany the  unfortunate  expedition  of  Leicester  into  the 
Netherlands,  and  the  year  following  received  his  death- 
wound  in  a  chivalrous  charge  beneath  the  walls  of 
Zutphen. 

Like  both  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  whose  careers  in  some 
respects  had  been  prototypes  of  his  own,  Sir  Philip 
Sidney  had  found  leisure  at  court,  or  in  the  retirement 
of  Penshurst  and  Wilton,  to  cultivate  the  literary  art 
in  various  fields.  About  1580  he  wrote  a  Defence  of 
Poesy,  notable  as  the  first  true  essay  in  criticism  in 
our  language.  He  was  also  the  author  of  a  series  of 
sonnets  and  songs  entitled  Astrophel  and  Stella. 
Although  not  published  until  1591,  these  poems  were 
written  at  intervals  following  the  year  1581,  when  the 
poet  suddenly  discovered  his  affection  for  Penelope 
Devereux,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  who  in  that 
year  wedded  a  nobleman  of  the  court.  There  seems 
to  be  no  question  of  the  sincerity  of  the  passion  re- 
hearsed in  these  love  poems,  one  hundred  and  twenty 
in  all ;  and  they  have  taken  their  place  with  the  finest 
compositions  of  this  sort  in  our  literature.     Besides 


100  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

this  group  of  passionate  love  sonnets,  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
left  an  elaborate  pastoral  romance  entitled  Arcadia. 
This  voluminous  work,  which  may  be  taken  as  typical 
of  numerous  efforts  in  the  field  of  prose  fiction  belong- 
ing to  this  time,  was  never  designed  for  publication. 
In  the  year  1580  Sidney  had  begun  its  composition 
solely  for  the  diversion  of  his  sister,  the  Countess, 
charging  her  to  destroy  the  manuscript  as  it  was  read  ; 
but  four  years  after  Sidney's  death  The  Countess  of 
Pembroke 's  Arcadia  was  published  at  London.  It 
became  the  most  popular  romance  of  the  day,  inspir- 
ing many  imitators,  and,  like  Lyly's  Evphues?  even 
setting  a  model  of  conversational  form  among  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  Elizabeth's  court. 

Hardly  less  brilliant  than  Sidney,  and  even  more  ver- 
satile, Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  the  navigator  of  strange 
seas,  soldier,  explorer,  colonizer,  accomplished  gentle- 
man of  the  court,  lived  to  its  full  the  eventful  life 
so  characteristic  of  his  age.  Born  in  Devonshire,  edu- 
Slr  cated  at  Oxford,  Raleigh  began  his  adven- 

waiter  turous  career  at  seventeen  years  of  age  as  a 
1562-  '  volunteer  in  the  cause  of  the  French  Protest- 
1618,  ants.     Later  he  was  a  prominent  figure  in 

many  of  the  daring  enterprises  which  give  distinction  to 
the  time,  and  was  with  the  fleet  which  crushed  the  Great 
Armada  in  1588.  The  tradition  of  his  romantic  intro- 
duction to  Elizabeth,  when  he  is  said  to  have  thrown 
his  rich  plush  cloak  upon  the  wet  shore  at  Greenwich 
that  the  flattered  queen  might  walk  with  unsoiled  slip- 
per, whether  fact  or  fiction,  is  thoroughly  characteristic 
of  the  man  and  of  the  age.  Raleigh  quickly  rose  in 
favor.  A  royal  grant  of  12,000  acres  in  Ireland  made 
him  a  neighbor  of  Edmund  Spenser,  and  furnished  an 
opportunity  for  the  interesting   friendship  celebrated 

1  See  page  124. 


SIR   WALTER   RALEIGH  101 

by  the  poet  of  TJie  Faerie  Queene.  Under  the  rule 
of  James,  Raleigh  found  only  ingratitude  and  mis- 
fortune. For  thirteen  years  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower 
under  charges  of  treason,  he  was  released,  made  an 
unfortunate  expedition  to  the  Orinoco  in  search  of 
gold,  returned  in  disappointment  and  disgrace,  and 
shortly  after,  was  beheaded  upon  the  old-time  charge ; 
Sir  Francis  Bacon  was  conspicuously  active  in  the 
proceedings  against  him. 

During  the  period  of  his  long  imprisonment  Raleigh 
began  a  voluminous  History  of  the  World.  H|S 
The  work  starts  with  the  Creation,  as  was  cus-  Works- 
tomary  among  the  early  historians,  and  closes  with 
the  second  Macedonian  War,  B.  c.  168.  It  is  learned 
and  eloquent,  and  is  filled  with  contemplations  and 
comparisons  inspired  by  the  men  and  the  events  dis- 
cussed. The  shadow  of  his  own  misfortune  falls  at 
times  upon  its  pages ;  and  the  conclusion  of  the  His- 
tory takes  the  form  of  an  apostrophe  to  Death,  which 
may  serve  to  suggest  the  serious  tone  of  the  work,  and 
also  illustrate  the  author's  style  :  — 

"Oh,  eloquent,  just,  and  mighty  Death!  whom  none 
could  advise,  thou  hast  persuaded  ;  what  none  hath  dared, 
thou  hast  done ;  and  whom  all  the  world  hath  flattered, 
thou  only  hast  cast  out  of  the  world,  and  despised  ;  thou 
hast  drawn  together  all  the  far-stretched  greatness,  all  the 
pride,  cruelty  and  ambition  of  man,  and  covered  it  over 
with  these  two  narrow  words  —  Hie  Jacet." 

Besides  his  History,  Raleigh  wrote  The  Discovery 
of  the  Large,  Rich  and  Beautiful  Empire  of  Guiana 
(1596),  a  narrative  of  his  voyage  to  the  Orinoco;1 
various  other  "  accounts ; "  and  many  poems,  some  of 
which  were  of  merit  sufficient  to  draw  from  Spenser  a 

1  Published  in  CasseWs  National  Library,  ten  cents. 


102  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

complimentary  allusion  to  Raleigh  as  the  "  Summer's 
Nightingale." 

The  climax  in  that  development  of  English  poetry 
Edmund  which  gives  such  lustre  to  the  Elizabethan 
Spenser,  age  is  found  in  the  work  of  Edmund  Spen- 
ser, to  whom  Charles  Lamb  gave  the  title  of 
"  The  Poet's  Poet."  Born  in  London,  as  was  Chau- 
cer before  him,  and  Milton,  who  was  later  to  succeed 
him  as  a  master  in  the  field  of  epic  poetry,  he  entered 
into  few  of  the  comfortable  advantages  which  enriched 
the  boyhood  of  those  poets.  His  parents  were  poor,  al- 
though connected,  as  the  poet  tells  us,  with  "  an  house 
of  ancient  fame." 

His  name  is  mentioned  among  those  of  six  poor 
scholars  of  the  Merchant  Tailors'  School  who  received 
assistance  from  a  generous  country  squire  ;  and  in  1569 
we  find  him  entered  at  the  University  of  Cambridge  as 
a  sizar,  which  means  that  he  earned  his  way  by  serv- 
ing in  the  dining-hall,  and  performing  other  duties  of  a 
like  character.  At  the  University  began  the  friendship 
with  Gabriel  Harvey,  a  fellow  student,  who  probably 
introduced  the  poet  to  Sidney  and  the  Earl  of  Leices- 
ter. In  157G  Spenser  left  Cambridge  and  found  some 
employment  in  the  north  of  England  ;  and  here  he 
first  showed  the  quality  of  his  poetic  gifts. 

Spenser's  first  important  composition  was  a  set  of 
twelve  eclogues,  one  for  each  month  of  the  year. 
TheSheB-  When  published  in  1579,  the  work  was  dedi- 
herd's  cated  to   Sir  Philip   Sidney,  between  whom 

and  Spenser  an  intimate  friendship  had  al- 
ready been  formed.  It  is  interesting  to  see  the  influ- 
ence of  the  New  Learning  in  Spenser's  work.  The 
spirit  of  Vergil  and  of  Theocritus  speaks  again  through 
the  classical  machinery  of  pastoral  eclogue,  a  form  of 
poetry  which  at  once  laid  hold  of  the  pleased  imagina- 


EDMUND   SPENSER  103 

tion  of  the  age ;  indeed,  so  attractive  did  this  Arca- 
dian setting  appear,  that  in  all  forms  of  imaginative 
composition,  in  prose  romance,  and  in  dramatic  poetry, 
the  loves  and  woes  of  complaining  shepherds  seemed  a 
universal  theme  by  which  to  rouse  the  sentimental  in- 
terest of  readers.  Milton  in  his  Lycidas  gave  a  tone 
of  serious  dignity  to  the  pastoral.  And  more  than  a 
hundred  years  after  Spenser's  day  we  find  the  same 
machinery  used  in  The  Pastorals  of  Alexander  Pope. 
But  The  Shepherd 's  Calendar  was  full  of  the  limpid 
sweetness  of  Spenser's  verse,  and  marked  the  highest 
reach  of  English  poetry  since  Chaucer.  Its  quality  was 
recognized  at  once ;  and  the  poet  was  duly  honored  by 
the  friends  secured  through  Sidney's  interest. 

In  1580  Spenser  was  appointed  private  secretary 
to  Earl  Grey  of  Wilton,  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland  ;  and 
thenceforth  Ireland  continued  to  be  the  poet's  home. 
The  country  was  in  rebellion,  and  conditions  were  any- 
thing but  pleasant.  The  private  secretary  embodied 
his  own  reflections  in  a  pamphlet  called  A  in 
View  of  the  Present  State  of  Ireland  (not  helanl1- 
printed  until  1633),  which  shows  sufficiently  the  bitter 
harshness  of  the  time.  Lord  Grey  was  recalled  two 
years  after  his  appointment,  but  Spenser  was  retained 
in  various  official  positions,  and  in  1588  was  settled  at 
Kilcolman  Castle  in  County  Cork.  In  spite  of  sur- 
roundings so  unfavorable  to  a  work  of  pure  imagina- 
tion, Spenser  had  been  engaged  throughout  his  resi- 
dence in  Ireland  upon  his  great  epic.  According  to  a 
letter  to  Harvey,  this  poem  had  been  begun  before 
Spenser  left  England  in  1580.  By  1589  three  books 
of  the  epic  had  been  completed,  and  in  that  year  were 
shown  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  who  was  now  a  neigh- 
bor of  the  poet,  holding  forfeitures  on  the  same  estate. 
In  the  company  of  Raleigh,  Spenser  now  came  back  to 


104  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

London  to  lay  his  poem  at  the  feet  of  the  queen  whose 
praises  he,  more  sweetly  than  any  other,  had  sung.  A 
pension  of  X50  was  bestowed  upon  the  poet,  and  he 
returned  to  Ireland  to  celebrate  his  visit  in  the  pasto- 
ral Colin  Clout 's  Come  Home  Again. 

More  than   any   other  work  of  that   age,   perhaps, 

Spenser's    masterpiece   is   typical  of  the  ro- 

Faerie  mantic  spirit  which  characterized  England  in 

Queeno.        ^Q    jagj.   deca(ies  0f   ^}ie   sixteenth  century. 

The  political  significance  in  some  portions  of  the  alle- 
gory, as,  for  example,  the  attempt  to  portray  Sidney, 
Raleigh,  Lord  Grey,  and  other  noblemen  in  the  heroes 
of  the  several  cantos ;  the  figuring  forth  of  the  person 
of  the  queen  herself  in  the  character  of  Gloriana ; 
and  the  presentation  of  the  false  Duessa  as  typical  of 
Mary  Stuart,  —  this  is  less  noteworthy  than  the  gen- 
eral atmosphere  of  ideal  chivalry  and  moral  struggle 
which  was  strikingly  in  keeping  with  the  thoughts  and 
passions  of  England  in  the  Elizabethan  age.  In  the 
person  of  Arthur,  the  poet  set  forth  his  ideal  of  per- 
fect manhood,  and  designed  in  the  twelve  books  of 
his  work,  as  planned,  to  describe  successively  the  qual- 
ity of  his  hero  in  each  of  the  moral  virtues  as  then 
defined.  The  greatness  of  this  great  poem,  however, 
is  not  due  to  the  complicated  subtilties  of  the  allegory 
so  much  as  to  the  extraordinary  charm  of  these  wind- 
ing paths  and  byways  through  which  the  poet  leads  us 
in  the  fairyland  of  his  dream.  Although  the  length 
of  even  this  half-completed  work,  and  the  unavoidable 
monotony  of  these  unvarying  stanzas,  do  not  encourage 
continuous  reading,  The  Faerie  Qucene  still  holds  its 
place,  one  of  the  greater  masterpieces  of  our  literature, 
a  noble  epic,  rich  in  imagination  and  in  fancy,  ex- 
pressed in  lines  which  for  softness  and  melody  have 
never  been  surpassed. 


MINOR   POEMS  105 

Spenser's  early  poems  were  published  under  the  title 
of  Complaints  in  1591.  Besides  The  Faerie  Mlnor 
Queene,  his  later  works  include  several  ele-  Poems, 
gies ;  the  Amoretti,  or  love  sonnets  ;  four  Hymns  in 
honor  of  love  and  beauty,  heavenly  love  and  heavenly 
beauty ;  the  exquisite  Fjrithalamion,  or  song  in  honor 
of  his  marriage  in  1594 ;  and  another  spousal  verse, 
the  Prothalamion.  His  lament  upon  the  death  of 
Sidney,  entitled  Astrophel,  is  the  finest  of  his  elegies. 
In  the  pastoral  manner  he  begins :  — 

"  A  gentle  shepheard  borne  in  Arcady, 
Of  gentlest  race  that  ever  shepheard  bore, 
About  the  grassie  bancks  of  Hsemony 
Did  keepe  his  sheep,  his  litle  stoek  and  store : 
Full  carefully  he  kept  them  day  and  night, 
In  fairest  fields  ;  and  Astrophel  he  hight. 

"  Young  Astrophel,  the  pride  of  shepheards  praise, 
Young  Astrophel,  the  rusticke  lasses  love  : 
Far  passing  all  the  pastors  of  his  daies, 
In  all  that  seemly  shepheard  might  behove. 
In  one  thing  onely  fayling  of  the  best, 
That  he  was  not  so  happie  as  the  rest." 

In  1595  Spenser  came  again  to  England,  bringing 
three  more  books  of  The  Faerie  Queene.  For  Last 
a  year  he  remained  the  guest  of  the  Earl  of  Years- 
Essex,  at  this  period  the  favorite  of  the  capricious 
Elizabeth.  The  new  literature  was  now  in  hand. 
Shakespeare  had  produced  his  early  plays,  including 
A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  and  Romeo  and  Ju- 
liet. Ben  Jonson  was  already  on  the  stage;  and 
Francis  Bacon,  just  about  publishing  the  first  edition 
of  his  famous  Essays,  was  enjoying  the  patronage  of 
Spenser's  host.  It  is  inconceivable  that  the  poet  failed 
to  enter  and  enjoy  the  society  of  these  men.  In  1598, 
after  the  poet  had  returned  to  Ireland,  occurred  a 
fierce  outbreak  of  the  Irish  rebels,  which  involved  the 


106  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

district  of  Spenser's  residence.  Kilcolman  was  at- 
tacked and  burned,  and  the  unfortunate  poet  and  his 
family  were  compelled  to  flee  for  their  lives.  Near  the 
close  of  the  year,  Spenser  arrived  in  London  in  pro- 
found distress,  and  in  January,  1599,  died  at  an  inn. 
He  was  buried  near  Chaucer  in  the  Abbey,  and  was 
mourned  as  the  greatest  of  English  poets. 

The  Riverside  Edition  of  this  poet,  edited  in  three  vol- 
umes by  Francis  J.  Child,  is  an  authoritative  text  for  the 
student's  purpose.  The  Globe  Edition  (Macmillan)  con- 
tains the  works  of  Spenser  in  one  volume.  The  Life  of 
Spenser  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  is  by  Church. 

For  study,  take  the  first  two  cantos  of  Book  I.  of  The 
Surges-  Faerie  Queene.  Read  "  A  Letter  of  the  Authors  " 
tions  lor  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  expounding  his  intention 
u  7'  in   the   allegory.     What   is  an   allegory'*     How 

many  interpretations  may  be  permitted  of  this  poem  ?  Who 
are  the  heroes  of  the  first  six  books  ?  What  virtues  are 
typified  by  them  ?  How  does  the  poet  devise  to  exhibit 
King  Arthur  as  the  quintessence  of  all  the  virtues  ?  Ex- 
plain the  political  allegory  so  far  as  you  can. 

Examine  the  structure  of  the  Spenserian  stanza,  —  one  of 
the  most  perfect  stanza  forms  known.  Notice  the  rhyme 
order  :  a  —  b  —  a  —  b  —  b  —  c  —  b  —  c  —  c'.  Here  we  have 
nine  verses  which  would  fall  into  three  separate  groups  did 
not  the  repetition  of  a  rhyme  bind  the  parts  together.  Thus 
we  have  a  long  stanza  saved  from  monotony  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  new  rhymes,  and  secure  in  its  unity  because  of  the 
repetition  of  the  "  b  "  rhyme.  A  very  effective  close  for  the 
stanza  is  found  in  the  last  verse,  which  is  longer  by  two  syl- 
lables than  the  other  verses ;  this  twelve-syllable  verse  is 
called  an  Alexandrine.  This  peculiar  arrangement  of  verses 
Was  found  by  adding  the  Alexandrine  to  the  stanza  used  by 
Chaucer  in  his  Monk's  Tale.  Most  of  the  later  poets  have 
employed  this  Spenserian  stanza :  name  some  of  the  promi- 
nent poems  in  which  it  appears. 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY.  107 

Read  several  stanzas  of  the  epic  aloud  ;  try  to  determine 
for  yourself  what  elements  impart  the  softness  and  melodi- 
ousness to  the  verse.  Note  the  vowel  sounds  ;  the  effect  of 
the  consonants  in  combination.  Point  out  the  liquids,  the 
long-drawn  syllables  like  muse,  deeds,  meane,  etc. :  what  is 
the  effect  on  the  ear?  Note  the  repetition  of  a  sound  in 
certain  lines,  as  "  Me,  all  to  meane,  the  sacred  muse  areeds  " 
(Introd.  to  canto  1. 1-7).    What  is  the  allusion  in  this  stanza  ? 

Now,  in  reading  canto  I.,  try  to  perceive  the  beauty  of 
rhythm  and  melody  that  have  made  the  poem  a  delight  to 
the  ear.  Give  a  thought  to  the  poet's  imagination  which 
with  such  felicity  invents  so  wonderful  an  array  of  images 
and  incidents.  Examine  the  details  of  the  narrative.  Ex- 
plain the  allegory  in  the  first  stanza :  the  shield ;  the  gravity, 
boldness,  and  eagerness  of  the  knight ;  the  lady  and  her  equip- 
ment. Why  does  she  lead  a  lamb  ?  Why  is  she  attended  by 
the  dwarf  ?  What  is  the  significance  of  the  storm,  the  wood, 
the  battle  ?  * 

Make  a  list  of  peculiar  verbal  forms,  obsolete  words,  etc. 
What  is  the  meaning  of  the  y  in  ydrad,  yclad  ?  Why  did 
the  poet  choose  these  forms,  which  were  out  of  use  even  in 
his  day  ?  Note  the  images,  especially  such  continued  ones 
as  are  found  in  stanzas  XXI.  and  XXIII.  Where  are  the 
models  that  suggest  them  ? 

Do  not  overlook  the  classical  allusions,  e.  g.  in  XXXVL, 
XXXVIL,  XXXIX.  You  will  find  in  Book  VI.  of  the 
fflneid  the  original  of  Spenser's  description  of  "  Morpheus' 
house "  (XXXIX.-XLL).  Compare  these  stanzas  with 
Thomson's  Castle  of  Indolence  and  Tennyson's  The  Lotos 
Eaters,  with  special  reference  to  the  dreamy  languor  of  the 
measure.  Spenser  declares  his  indebtedness  to  Chaucer: 
what  evidence  of  this  do  you  discover  ? 

Why  has  the  title  "The  Poets'  Poet"  been  given  to 
Spenser  ? 

Of  the  many  minor  authors  who  might  be  enumer- 
ated as  contributors  to  the  literature  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  following  prose  writers  are  most  worthy 


106  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

of  mention.  They  were  all  theologians,  and  men  of 
Minor  large  influence  in  their  generation.      John 

Authors.  Knox  (1505-72),  a  bold  and  uncompromis- 
ing champion  of  the  Protestant  cause,  more  famous  for 
his  public  sermons  than  for  his  formal  publications, 
wrote  a  History  of  the  Scottish  Reformation.  John 
Fox  (1517-87),  a  graduate  of  Oxford,  compiled  the 
Booh  of  Martyrs,  a  work  of  extraordinary  influence  in 
the  religious  controversies  amid  which  Puritan  England 
was  developed.  Author  of  many  published  discourses, 
which  were  marked  by  great  force  of  character  and 
vigorous  expression,  was  Hugh  Latimer  (1470- 
1555),  a  convert  to  Protestantism,  who  suffered  mar- 
tyrdom by  burning  in  the  time  of  Mary.  It  was  Lati- 
mer who,  while  enduring  the  agony  of  the  flames,  cried 
out  to  his  fellow  sufferer,  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  Master 
Ridley,  and  play  the  man  ;  we  shall  this  day  light  such 
a  candle,  by  God's  grace,  in  England,  as  I  trust  shall 
never  be  put  out."  One  other  writer  in  the  last  quar- 
ter of  the  century,  Richard  Hooker  (1553-1600), 
claims  attention  for  the  unusual  excellence  of  his  style, 
as  seen  in  the  treatise  on  Ecclesiastical  Polity,  a  de- 
fense of  the  English  ecclesiastical  system.  Although 
of  less  human  interest  than  the  essays  of  Raleigh  or 
Bacon,  this  work  is  regarded  as  one  of  the  best  exam- 
ples of  stately  English  prose  belonging  to  the  time. 

IV.  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  ENGLISH  DRAMA. 

One  cannot  very  well  appreciate  the  remarkable 
display  of  creative  power  in  the  works  of  Marlowe, 
Shakespeare,  Ben  Jonson,  and  their  contemporaries, 
who  does  not  look  before  as  well  as  after,  examining 
the  sources  and  origins  of  all  this  activity  in  dramatic 
composition  which  so  distinguishes  the  Elizabethan 
age. 


BEGINNINGS   OF  THE   DRAMA  109 

The  beginnings  of  classic  drama  were  in  religious 
rites  ;  the  origin  of  the  modern  theatre,  also,  Begin- 
was  in  the  attempt  to  impress  religious  truth  *&£*■ 
upon  the  people.  Between  the  ancient  and  the  modern 
stage,  however,  there  is  no  link  of  immediate  connec- 
tion. From  the  period  of  utter  decadence,  when  pagan 
art  was  lost  amid  the  brutalities  of  gladiatorial  shows 
and  worse,  to  the  first  simple  tableaux  and  pantomimes 
intended  to  figure  forth  the  events  and  facts  of  sacred 
history,  a  wide  gap  intervenes.  And  yet  the  new  be- 
ginnings were  similar  in  kind  to  those  of  the  earliest 
dramatic  art. 

Perhaps  the  Easter  festivals  or  the  Christmas  cele- 
brations of  the  Church  suggested  first  the  pious  adap- 
tation of  this  ancient  art  of  acting  to  present  im- 
pressively the  facts  of  the  new  religion ;  per-  Religion* 
haps  in  the  solemn  ritual  of  the  Mass  itself  Rltes- 
there  was  more  than  a  mere  suggestion  of  theatrical 
effectiveness  in  its  inevitable  appeal  to  the  imagina- 
tion of  humble  worshipers.  To  enforce  the  lesson  of 
Good  Friday,  the  Crucifix  was  interred  with  a  simple 
ceremonial,  and  on  Easter  Sunday  it  was  disinterred. 
Gradually  this  brief  pantomime  grew  into  an  elaborate 
ceremonial.  In  some  recess  of  the  cathedral  chapel 
a  tomb  was  built,  with  space  for  watchmen  who  should 
represent  the  Roman  guards ;  and  here  on  Easter 
morning  the  assembled  congregation,  awe-struck  but 
curious,  saw  the  women  visit  the  sepulchre,  saw  the 
angels  roll  away  the  stone  that  sealed  its  entrance, 
saw  Peter  and  John  come  running  ;  by  and  by  the 
return  of  Mary  Magdalene  was  the  signal  for  one  to 
appear  arrayed  in  the  likeness  of  a  gardener,  who  pro- 
nounced the  woman's  name  and  vanished.  Then  the 
great  church  was  filled  with  the  sound  of  praise  as  the 
service  closed  with  the  Easter  anthem.     St.  Francis  of 


110  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

Assisi  (1182-1226)  arranged  a  little  scene  at  Christ- 
mas time  near  his  hermitage  in  the  forest.  An  ox  and 
an  ass  were  baited  there,  and  by  the  manger  he  placed 
a  mother  and  her  babe,  while  a  throng  of  peasant  folk 
watched  the  tableau  silently.  This  homely  scene  was 
repeated  elsewhere,  and  later  the  adoration  of  the 
Magi  was  included  ;  then  the  flight  into  Egypt.  In 
the  larger  churches  Joseph  was  presented  leading  the 
ass,  on  which  sat  Mother  and  Child,  from  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  high  altar  down  through  the  nave  to- 
ward the  main  entrance,  where  for  a  time  they  rested ; 
meanwhile  the  slaughter  of  the  Innocents  was  enacted 
at  the  chancel,  and  after  a  space  the  little  procession 
retraced  its  path,  and  the  play  was  over. 

Very  early  in  the  Christian   centuries  were  the  be 
The  ginnings  of  these  things  in  France.     They 

Miraele  appeared  in  England  soon  after  the  Con- 
quest, and  in  their  amplified  form  these 
sacred  dramas  were  known  as  Miracle  Plays,  or  Mys- 
teries. When  the  scope  of  these  plays  and  their  elabo- 
ration outgrew  the  limitations  of  church  and  ecclesi- 
astic, their  presentation  was  intrusted  to  the  guilds,  or 
great  trades  companies  ;  and  cycles,  or  groups  of  plays, 
were  arranged  for  the  stage.  Within  the  series  would 
be  included  important  events  of  scripture  narrative, 
sometimes  extending  from  the  fall  of  Lucifer  to  the 
final  judgment.  The  various  guilds  were  assigned 
particular  scenes,  which  they  presented  on  large  mov- 
able platforms  called  pageants,  drawn  by  horses  from 
station  to  station  through  the  town  —  a  fresh  pageant 
with  a  new  play  taking  the  place  of  each  as  it  lum- 
bered on  to  its  next  appointment.  Thus  all  the  scenes 
of  an  entire  cycle  would  be  enacted  before  all  the  in- 
habitants of  a  town,  although  the  whole  presentation 
might  easily  occupy  several  days.     Such  a  series  of 


THE   MIRACLE   PLAYS  111 

miracle  plays  was  presented  regularly  in  Chester  at 
Whitsuntide.  A  second  important  group  is  that  of 
the  Coventry  mysteries ;  the  York  plays  are  also 
famous,  and  so  are  the  Towneley,1  or  Widkirk,  plays. 
There  are  twenty-four  in  the  Chester  cycle,  preserved 
in  a  manuscript  of  the  year  1600.  These  plays  had 
been  given  at  Chester  as  early  as  1268,  and  their  pre- 
sentation continued  down  to  1577.  The  Coventry 
manuscript  dates  from  the  year  1468,  and  the  plays 
number  forty-two.  They  were  regularly  performed 
from  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  century  to  the  close 
of  the  sixteenth.  There  were  thirty  plays  in  the  Towne- 
ley group,  and  forty-eight  in  the  series  given  at  York. 
Miracle  plays  were  at  first  written  in  Latin ;  some 
of  them,  doubtless,  were  translated  into  Norman- 
French,  and  finally  they  appeared  in  English. 

With  the  secularization  of  the  miracle  plays  other 
than  sacred 'elements  were  speedily  added;  Modi«- 
the  moral  effect  of  their  performance  was  cauons. 
sometimes  quite  other  than  was  desired,  and  in  some 
localities  at  least  they  were  discountenanced,  if  not 
actually  prohibited,  by  the  Church.  The  natural  de- 
mand for  amusement  was  a  leading  force  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  realistic  portrayal  of  character.  To 
make  fun  for  the  audience,  new  personages  were  intro- 
duced, like  Noah's  wife,  who  is  quarrelsome  and  refuses 
to  enter  the  Ark  until  she  is  threatened  with  a  beating, 
and  is  finally  bustled  aboard  by  her  sons.  Serving- 
men,  shepherds,  soldiers,  became  permanent  types. 
Herod  was  a  popular  favorite,  as  he  stormed  and 
raved  about  the  scene.  Termagant,  the  traditional 
deity  of  the  Saracens,  was  another  robust  braggart  on 
this  early  stage.     Such  creations,  though  crude,  were, 

1  So  called  from  the  name  of  the  family  in  whose  possession  were 
the  manuscripts. 


112  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

nevertheless,  a  real  beginning  in  original  characteriza* 
tion,  based  on  types  with  which  these  venturesome  ap- 
prentices were  themselves  familiar.  Indeed  there  are 
some  notable  scenes  distinguished  by  a  tragic  realism 
of  no  inferior  type. 

Coincidently  with  the  miracle  plays  developed  the 
The  Mo-  Moralities  ;  and  these  latter  —  allegories  in 
ramies.  which  the  virtues  and  the  vices  appeared  un- 
der their  own  names  —  enjoyed  a  popularity  equal  to 
that  attained  by  the  earlier  religious  dramas.  The 
moralities  were  in  existence  as  far  back  as  Henry  VI. 's 
time  (1422-71).  The  titles  of  some  of  the  most  ac- 
cessible are :  Lusty  Juvenilis,  The  Castle  of  Perse- 
verance, TJie  World  and  the  Child,  Hick  Scorner, 
Everyman,  The  Marriage  of  Wit  and  Wisdom,  The 
Four  Elements,  The  Trial  of  Treasure.  The  conven- 
tional material  in  these  moral  plays  was  the  course  of 
Youth,  or  "  Human  Nature,"  on  the  stage  of  life.  He 
is  beguiled  by  characters  like  Hypocrisy,  Lust,  Ava- 
rice, Slander,  Jealousy,  Abominable  Living,  Malice, 
and  Discord.  On  the  other  hand  he  is  aided  by  Per- 
severance, Discretion,  Pity,  Mercy,  Wisdom,  Magnan- 
imity, Good  Hope,  Conscience,  and  the  like.  In  some 
of  the  moralities  a  controversial  war  was  waged  between 
Romanism  and  Protestantism;  in  others  the  evident 
purpose  is  to  instruct,  and  the  scene  grows  tedious  be- 
cause of  long  and  prosy  homilies  on  scientific  or  moral 
subjects.  Again  we  find  the  comic  characters  the  most 
popular,  and  as  in  the  miracle  plays,  some  conven- 
tional types  are  introduced ;  such  are  the  Innkeeper 
and  the  Peddler.  But  most  characteristic  of  these 
personages  are  the  Devil  and  the  Vice,  who  swagger 
through  the  play  together,  supplying  rough  and  ready 
humor  to  tickle  the  common  folk.  The  Devil  was  fig- 
ured   forth  with  a   shaggy  skin,  a    huge    false    nose, 


MORALITIES  AND  INTERLUDES  113 

horns,  hoof,  and  tail.  The  Vice  was  costumed  like  an 
athlete,  and  carried  a  lath  sword,  with  which  he  bela- 
bored the  other  characters,  especially  the  Devil,  al- 
though the  close  of  his  career  was  inevitably  his  de- 
scent, on  the  Devil's  shoulders,  into  Hell.  A  morality 
entitled  The  Necromancer,  written  in  1504  by  John 
Skelton,  contains  characters  drawn  from  common  life. 
In  the  presentation  of  these  moralities  professional 
actors  were  employed.  Their  exhibitions  were  given 
in  the  halls  of  the  nobility,  in  intervals  of  banquets, 
and  on  holidays  in  the  open  squares  of  towns.  At  an 
early  period  companies  of  players  were  maintained  by 
noblemen.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  afterward  King 
Richard  III.,  was  thus  a  patron  of  the  drama  as  early 
as  1475.  Henry  VII.  (1485-1509)  supported  two 
such  companies.     Henry  VIII.  maintained  three. 

The  name  of  interlude,  sometimes  applied  to  these 
compositions,  is  significant  of  their  use  in  elab-  The  "in- 
orate  entertainments,  as  well  as  at  the  feasts,  0jrjohn8 
which  supplied  amusement  for  court  and  no-  Heywood. 
bility.     As  has  been  stated,  the  farcical  element  was 
generously  mingled  with  the  serious.     A  special  devel- 
opment of  this  class  of  plays  is  found  in  the  interludes 
of  John  Heywood,  who  died  about  the  year  1565.    These 
plays,  three  in  number,  are  entitled :    The  Merry  Play 
between  Johan  the  Husband,  Tyb  his  Wife,  and  Sir 
John  the  Priest;   The  Pour  P.'s;  and   TJie  Merry 
Play  between  the  Pardoner  and  the  Friar,  the  Cu- 
rate and  Neighbor  Pratt.      These  "  merry  plays  "  are 
scarcely  more  than  dialogues  abounding  in  retort,  yet 
incidentally    delineating    character    with    considerable 
success.     Of  the  three   interludes   The  Four  P.'s  is 
the  best.      Four  well-known  types  are  introduced  :  the 
Palmer,  the  Pardoner,  the  Poticary,  and  the  Peddler. 
Some  of  these  characters  had  been  portrayed  by  Chau- 


114     FROM  CHAUCER  TO  SHAKESPEARE 

cer  in  his  Tales,  and  there  is  more  than  a  mere  sug- 
gestion of  the  earlier  portraits  in  the  character  plays 
of  I  ley  wood. 

The  interlude  is  opened  by  the  Palmer,  who  recites 
The  Four  the  extent  of  his  journeyings  to  distant 
p.'s.  shrines  :  — 

"  At  Jerusalem  have  I  been 
Before  Christ's  blessed  sepuleher  : 
The  Mount  of  Calvary  have  I  seen, 
A  holy  place,  you  may  be  sure. 
To  Jehosaphat  and  Olivet 
On  foot,  God  wot,  I  went  right  bare ; 
Many  a  salt  tear  did  I  sweat 
Before  my  carcase  could  come  there." 

And  so  on  with  the  list  until  he  is  interrupted  by  the 
Pardoner,  who  says  :  — 

"  And  when  ye  have  gone  as  far  as  ye  can, 
For  all  your  labor  and  ghostly  intent, 
Ye  will  come  as  wise  as  ye  went." 

Then  follows  a  long  discussion  upon  the  merit  of  pil- 
grimages and  pardons,  the  veracity  of  pilgrims  and 
pardoners.  The  Poticary  and  the  Peddler  join  in  the 
debate,  and  finally,  as  the  principal  argument  seems  to 
settle  upon  the  point  which  is  the  greater  liar,  the  Par- 
doner or  the  Palmer,  it  is  suggested  by  the  Peddler  that 
a  genuine  contest  take  place  between  the  two,  on  the 
merits  of  which  he  himself  shall  judge.  This  is  agreed 
to.  Some  diversion  is  provided  by  an  exhibition  of 
the  relics  in  the  Pardoner's  wallet  and  the  contents  of 
the  Poticary's  chest.  Among  the  treasures  of  the  for- 
mer are  "  the  blessed  jawbone  "  of  All  Saints  aud  the 
great  toe  of  the  Trinity.  The  Pardoner's  tale  is  of  his 
trip  to  Purgatory  and  thence  to  Hell  to  secure  the  re- 
lease of  a  woman,  his  one-time  friend,  and  of  his  success, 
owing  to  the  Devil's  desire  to  be  rid  of  all  women :  — 


TRUE  COMEDY  115 

"  For  all  we  devils  within  this  den 
Have  more  to  do  with  two  women 
Than  with  all  the  charge  we  have  beside." 

The  Palmer  is  surprised  at  the  implication  thus  cast 
upon  women.  In  his  extended  travels,  he  declares,  he 
has  seen  five  hundred  thousand :  — 

"  Yet  in  all  places  where  I  have  been, 
Of  all  the  women  that  I  have  seen, 
I  never  saw  or  knew  in  my  conscience 
Any  one  woman  out  of  patience." 

The  Poticary  exclaims  :  "  By  the  Mass,  there  is  a  great 
lie  !  "  The  Pardoner :  "  I  never  heard  a  greater,  by 
our  Lady  !  "  and  the  Peddler  asks  :  "  A  greater !  nay, 
know  ye  any  so  great  ?  " 

And  thus  the  Palmer  wins. 

The  date  of  The  Four  P.'s  cannot  be  much  later 
than  1530.  The  first  regular  comedy  in  English  was 
written  previous  to  1550,  by  Nicholas  Udall,  True 
who  in  1534  became  head  master  of  Eton  Col-  comedy, 
lege,  and  afterward  of  Westminster  School.  Udall 
was  a  classical  scholar,  familiar  with  the  works  of  Ter- 
ence and  Plautus,  and  under  their  influence  composed 
his  play  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  in  five  acts.  The 
plot  is  simple  and  is  confined  to  complications  arising 
from  the  wooing  of  Dame  Custance,  who  is  betrothed 
to  Gawin  Goodluck,  by  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  a  boast- 
ful, cowardly  fellow ;  he  in  turn  is  the  butt  and  victim 
of  one  Matthew  Merrygreek,  the  chief  conspirator  in 
the  plot. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  the  influence  of  the  classic 
drama  in  the  development  of  English  comedy.  The 
revival  of  learning  had  awakened  a  new  interest  in 
Latin  as  well  as  Greek  literature.  As  early  as  1520 
Plautus  had  been  performed  before  King  Henry  VIII. ; 
the  comedies  of  both  Plautus  and  Terence  were  pre 


116  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

sented  at  the  court  of  Elizabeth ;    Seneca   had  been 
translated  entire. 

In  15G2  there  was  performed  at  Whitehall,  before  the 
queen,  the  first  serious  attempt  at  genuine 
Wagedy  in  English.  This  play,  entitled  Gor- 
boduc, was  the  work  of  two  students  of  the  Inner  Tem- 
ple, Thomas  Norton  and  Thomas  Sackville,  afterward 
Earl  of  Dorset,  Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Oxford, 
and  Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England.  The  tragedy  is 
modeled  after  Seneca.  The  argument  thus  sets  forth 
the  plot : — 

"  Gorboduc,  King  of  Britain,  divided  his  realm  in  his 
lifetime  to  his  sons,  Ferrex  and  Porrex.  The  sons  fell  to 
divisions  and  dissensions.  The  younger  killed  the  elder. 
The  mother  that  more  dearly  loved  the  elder,  for  revenge 
killed  the  younger.  The  people,  moved  with  the  cruelty  of 
the  fact,  rose  in  rebellion  and  slew  both  father  and  mother. 
The  nobility  assembled  and  most  terribly  destroyed  the 
rebels.  And  afterwards,  for  want  of  issue  of  the  Prince, 
whereby  the  succession  of  the  crown  became  uncertain,  they 
fell  to  civil  war,  in  which  both  they  and  many  of  their  issues 
were  slain  and  the  land  for  a  long  time  almost  desolate  and 
miserably  wasted." 

Here  certainly  is  tragic  motive  in  abundance,  al- 
though it  should  be  noted  that,  following  the  classic 
model,  these  tragic  events  are  described,  not  actually 
enacted  upon  the  scene.  Crude  and  extravagant  as  it 
is,  this  play  marks  an  epoch  in  the  development  of  the 
English  drama.  It  was  a  fortunate  choice  which  led 
the  authors  of  Gorboduc  to  employ  blank  verse  instead 
of  rhyme,  —  a  form  of  verse  which  has  been  recognized 
ever  since  as  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  demands  of 
tragedy. 

These  are  but  a  few  of  the  more  prominent  land- 
marks in  the  early  history  of  the  English  stage,  and 


HISTORICAL  PLAYS  117 

only  suggest  the  manner  of  its  growth.  It  is  to  be 
understood  that  there  were  numerous  examples  of  the 
phases  that  have  been  noted,  for  the  development  dur- 
ing Elizabeth's  reign  was  rapid.  Miracle  plays  and 
moralities  flourished  side  by  side  and  continued  popu- 
lar for  some  years  after  Shakespeare's  birth ;  it  would 
be  strange  indeed  if  in  his  early  life  the  great  play- 
wright himself  had  not  been  present  at  such  perform- 
ances, mingling  with  the  throngs  of  interested  onlook- 
ers who  trooped  to  the  festivities  at  Warwick  Cas- 
tle, or  at  Kenilworth,  or  on  holidays  even  as  far  as 
Coventry,  to  see  the  mysteries  which  were  there  per- 
formed. 

Moreover,  there  was  an  increasing  store  of  dramatic 
works,  the  material  of  which  was  drawn  from  Historical 
life  with  more  or  less  realistic  detail,  which  Plays- 
embodied,  too,  in  an  ever  increasing  degree  the  spirit 
of  genuine  comedy  and  tragedy.  A  most  prolific  source 
of  such  material,  rich  in  dramatic  quality,  lay  at  hand 
in  the  recently  compiled  chronicles  and  histories  of 
England's  national  existence  ;  and  the  brilliant  achieve- 
ments of  contemporary  history  which  had  fired  the  en- 
thusiasm of  Elizabeth's  subjects  kindled  an  intense 
interest  in  these  records  of  events  which  had  been 
impressive  and  momentous  in  their  time.  Of  the  his- 
torians who  contributed  to  this  material  the  most  im- 
portant was  Raphael  Holinshed,  whose  Chronicles  of 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  published  in  1577, 
formed  the  great  storehouse  from  which  were  drawn  the 
arguments  of  a  number  of  popular  dramas  before  Shake- 
speare had  recourse  to  it  for  the  material  used  in  his 
own  remarkable  "histories."  Preceding  Holinshed  in 
point  of  time  was  Edward  Hall,  whose  work,  The  Un- 
ion of  the  Two  Noble  Families  of  Lancaster  and  York 
(1547),  supplied  its  share  of  the  material  dealing  with 


118  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  We  find  an  interesting  illus- 
tration of  this  resort  to  history  in  the  pageant  of  King 
John,  written  by  Bishop  John  Bale,  probably  in  the 
reign  of  Edward  VI.  This  old  play  is  really  a  mo- 
rality ;  for  along  with  the  historical  characters  there 
are  introduced  allegorical  personages  such  as  England, 
Nobility,  Civil  Order,  Treason,  and  Sedition.  A  later 
play,  The  Troublesome  Reign  of  John,  King  of  Eng- 
land, printed  in  1591,  but  written  some  years  previous 
to  that  date,  has  no  connection  with  Bale's  work.  Other 
examples  of  these  early  historical  plays  are  found  in 
The  True  Tragedy  of  Richard,  Duke  of  York,  and  the 
First  Part  of  the  Contention  betwixt  the  Two  Famous 
Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  which  formed  the  basis 
of  Shakespeare's  King  Henry  VI.  The  Famous  Vic- 
tories of  Henry  V.  was  acted  previous  to  1588,  and  a 
Latin  play  on  the  career  of  Richard  III.  was  presented 
at  Cambridge  in  1579.  A  later  play  on  the  same  sub- 
ject antedated  by  several  years  Shakespeare's  tragedy 
of  that  title.  That  Shakespeare  himself  was  intensely 
stirred  by  the  heroic  richness  of  this  historical  material 
is  evident  in  the  use  he  makes  of  it  in  his  own  great 
"  histories."  Thus  in  his  King  John,  before  the  walls 
of  besieged  Angiers,  Cceur  de  Lion's  son  is  made  to 
say:  — 

"  Ha,  Majesty  !  how  high  thy  glory  towers, 
When  the  rich  hlood  of  kings  is  set  on  fire  ! 
0,  now  doth  Death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel ; 
And  now  he  feasts,  mousing  the  flesh  of  men, 
In  undetermin'd  differences  of  kings."  l 

With  the  passing  of  miracle  plays  and  moralities, 
innyards,  with  their  surrounding  galleries,  became  the 
usual  places  of  dramatic  performances.    The  earliest 

1  Act  II.  scene  i.  350.     Compare  with  this  passage  the  prologue  to 
King  Henry  V.,  referred  to  on  page  121. 


THE  THEATRES  119 

public  playhouse  in  London,  called  The  Theatre,  was 
built  in  1576  by  James  Burbadge,  father  of  TheThe- 
Richard  Burbadge,  the  great  actor  of  tragic  atres- 
parts  in  Shakespeare's  day.  Next  in  date  of  building 
was  The  Curtain.1  The  Rose  was  opened  in  1592  on 
the  Bankside.  At  Newington  Butts  there  was  a  play- 
house known  by  the  name  of  that  locality.  The  Globe, 
most  famous  of  all  the  London  playhouses,  was  erected 
in  1599  on  the  site  of  the  old  Theatre,  which  was  torn 
down  after  its  owner  had  built  the  new  Blackfriars 
Theatre  in  1596.  The  Red  Bull,  The  Fortune,  The 
Cockpit,  and  The  Swan  were  also  standing  in  Shake- 
speare's time.  In  all,  the  city  boasted  some  dozen 
theatres  of  varying  use  and  fame. 

If  one  would  reconstruct  an  early  London  playhouse, 
he  should  think  first  of  one  of  those  round,  or  many- 
sided  structures,  familiar  now  in  all  large  cities  as  used 
for  the  exhibition  of  cycloramas  and  realistic  battle  pic- 
tures. In  buildings  similarly  shaped,  but  not  ^^^ 
entirely  roofed  over,  the  greatest  English  Equip- 
dramas  were  first  performed.  A  shed-roof 
projected  a  little  way  inside  the  circle,  thus  protect- 
ing the  stage  and  the  tiers  of  seats  that  corresponded 
to  our  balconies  and  boxes ;  the  large  centre  of  the 
theatre  was  unprotected  commonly  from  either  sun  or 
shower,  and  here  the  "  groundlings  "  stood  elbowing 
one  another  throughout  the  progress  of  the  play.  This 
part  of  the  theatre  was  strewn  with  rushes ;  in  time  it 
received  the  not  inappropriate  name  of  the  pit.  The 
stage  itself  was  plainly  furnished ;  there  was  little 
thought  of  decoration  or  of  setting.  There  was  always 
an  elevated  platform  or  balcony  overlooking  the  stage 
at  the  rear  ;  and  upon  this  elevation  were  presented 
the  frequent  plays  within  plays,  as  in  Hamlet.     This 

1  Derived  from  the  Latin  curtina,  a  little  court ;  hence  a  local  name. 


120  FROM   CIIAUUEK  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

platform  also  furnished  the  balcony  scene  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  and  served  to  suggest  the  walls  of  a  city,  as 
in  King  John  and  in  the  "  histories."  Gayly  dressed 
and  boisterous  representatives  of  the  court  usually  occu- 
pied stools  upon  the  stage  itself,  where  they  displayed 
their  finery,  their  fashions,  and  their  manners,  often  to 
the  great  annoyance  of  audience  and  actors.  Coarse- 
visaged,  hoarse-voiced  women  sold  oranges  and  apples 
to  the  mechanics  and  apprentices  who  crowded  the  pit. 
Tradesmen  and  gentlemen  commoners  filled  the  little 
pens  which  served  for  private  boxes.  Very  few  women 
were  seen  in  this  public  audience ;  those  of  any  repu- 
tation were  closely  masked.  The  gallants  on  the  stage 
played  cards  and  smoked,  talked  with  one  another,  and 
insolently  commented  on  actors  and  auditors  alike. 
The  performances  were  usually  at  three  in  the  after- 
noon. A  flag  flying  from  the  roof  indicated  that  a 
play  was  on  the  stage.  With  a  flourish  of  trumpets 
the  customary  Prologue  was  introduced,  and  then  the 
action  proceeded.  Scarcely  any  scenery  was  employed. 
A  card  was  hung  announcing  the  scene  in  a  wood,  a 
castle,  a  field  of  battle,  France,  Bohemia,  Paris,  Venice, 
or  London.  Articles  of  common  furnishing  were  uti- 
lized, and  sometimes  more  elaborate  efforts  were  made 
to  give  a  realistic  effect  to  the  scene  ;  but  for  the  most 
part  a  frank  appeal  was  made  to  the  imagination  of 
the  spectators,  and  the  liveliness  of  the  imagination 
in  the  Elizabethan  age  seems  to  have  been  entirely 
adequate  to  all  demands.1     There  are  many  who  assert 

1   "  Can  this  cockpit  hold 

The  vasty  fields  of  France  ?  or  may  we  cram 
Within  this  wooden  0  the  very  casques 
That  did  affright  the  air  at  Agincourt  ? 


Suppose  within  the  girdle  of  these  walls 
Are  now  confin'd  two  mighty  monarchies, 


THE   COMPANIES  121 

that  this  condition  was  favorable  in  every  way,  and  that 
the  performance  grew  vastly  more  impressive  through 
the  very  absence  of  mechanical  details,  which  possibly 
distract  attention  rather  than  emphasize  the  actor's  art. 

No  attempt  was  made  to  reproduce  the  costumes 
historically  suggestive  of  the  character  or  scene ;  yet 
the  actor's  wardrobe  was  as  luxurious  and  costly  as 
that  of  the  courtier  himself.  The  women's  parts  were 
played  by  boys  or  men,  who  were  often  famous  for 
their  skill.  If  one  would  have  the  comment  of  the  best 
possible  authority  on  the  methods  of  the  Elizabethan 
staore,  let  him  turn  to  the  third  act  of  Hamlet  and  fol- 
low  carefully  the  instructions  to  the  players.  In  many 
a  comic  scene,  besides,  has  Shakespeare  burlesqued  the 
rude  craft  of  some  early  player,  as  well  as  the  gen- 
eral poverty  of  the  stage  in  his  time. 

Professional  actors  were  banded  into  companies  dis- 
tinguished by  the  title  of  some  patron.  There  The  Com. 
were  the  Lord  Leicester's  Players,  the  Queen's  panies. 
Players,  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  Men,  etc.  The  ser- 
vice of  the  patron  does  not  seem  usually  to  have  in- 
cluded much  more  than  the  securing  of  the  royal 
license  for  the  company,  although  the  Queen's  and  the 
King's  companies  enjoyed  some  further  privileges,  and 
were  honored  with  some  special  obligations  in  present- 
ing their  plays  at  court.  A  single  company  might  be 
known  by  different  names  at  various  times.     The  Earl 

Whose  high  upreared  and  ahutting  fronts 

The  perilous  narrow  ocean  parts  asunder : 

Piece  out  our  imperfections  with  your  thoughts  ; 

Into  a  thousand  parts  divide  one  man, 

And  make  imaginary  puissance  ; 

Think,  when  we  talk  of  horses,  that  you  see  them 

Printing  their  proud  hoofs  i'  the  receiving  earth  ; 

For  'tis  your  thoughts  that  now  must  deck  our  kings,"  etc. 

Prologue  to  King  Henry  P". 


122  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

of  Leicester's  Men  became  Lord  Strange's  in  1588. 
In  1592  Lord  Strange  became  Earl  of  Derby,  and  the 
players  changed  their  title  accordingly.  In  1594  the 
Earl  of  Derby  died,  and  his  company  of  actors  became 
Lord  Hunsdon's  or  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  Men.  In 
1596  the  earl  died,  and  his  son,  the  second  Lord  Huns- 
don,  became  their  patron  ;  he  also  became  Chamberlain 
in  1597.  After  the  accession  of  James  in  1603,  this 
same  company  was  honored  with  the  title  of  King's 
Players.  William  Shakespeare  was  certainly  a  mem- 
ber of  this  company  in  1594,  and  one  of  its  foremost 
men  in  1598.  It  is  probable  that  he  joined  it  on  his 
first  arrival  in  London.  Richard  Burbadge,  greatest 
actor  of  his  time,  was  Shakespeare's  colleague  and  first 
interpreted  his  great  tragic  characters.  William  Kemp, 
the  best  comedian  of  his  day,  was  a  member  of  this  same 
company.  John  Ileming  and  Henry  Condell  were  fel- 
low actors  with  the  poet,  who  collected  Shakespeare's 
plays  and  edited  the  famous  first  folio  text  in  1623. 
This  notable  company  first  occupied  The  Theatre  in 
Moorfields,  and  then  the  Rose,  on  Bankside  ;  but  it 
is  the  Globe  Theatre  with  which  they  were  especially 
identified,  and  of  which  Shakespeare  himself  was  part 
owner. 

Something  of  the  development  of  the  English  drama 
Shake-  has  been  outlined  in  the  foregoing  para- 
phed™3 graphs;  something  remains  to  be  said  con- 
cessors.  cerning  the  group  of  men  who  actually  pos- 
sessed the  London  stage  at  the  moment  of  Shakespeare's 
entrance  on  professional  life.  Their  influence  on  his 
career  was  not  insignificant. 

First  in  point  of  time  came  John  Lyly.  His  dis- 
tinction rests  upon  his  romances  and  his  pastoral  come- 
dies, which  made  him  the  most  popular  writer  of  his 
day.     Lyly's  earliest  work  appeared  in  1579,  when  he 


THE    INTERIOR    OF    THE    SWAN    THEATRE    AS    SKETCHED    BY  JOHANNES 
DE    WITT,   A    DUTCH    SCHOLAR,    ABOUT    1596 

(At  the  rear  of  the  stage,  which  is  uncovered,  is  the  tiring-room,  to  which  the  two 
large  doors  give  entrance.  Above  the  tiring-room  extends  a  covered  balcony,  now 
occupied  by  spectators,  but  used  by  the  actors,  when  required,  in  the  presentation 
of  a  play.  At  the  door  of  the  chamber  near  the  gallery  roof  stands  a  trumpeter  to 
announce  the  beginning  of  an  act.  The  flag,  with  the  emblem  of  the  swan,  is  flying, 
as  a  sign  to  those  outside  that  a  play  is  in  progress.  The  disposition  of  boxes  and 
galleries  is  plain,  but  unfortunately  the  "groundlings"  are  unrepresented  in  the 
picture.  The  form  of  the  building  is  oval.  No  other  drawing  of  the  interior  of  an 
Elizabethan  theatre  is  known  to  exist,  says  Dowden.  The  original  sketch  was 
discovered  recently  in  the  University  Library,  Utrecht.) 


124  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

was  a  graduate  student  at  Oxford.  It  was  a  novel,  as 
John  Lyiy,  novels  then  went,  entitled  Euphuea.  The 
1554-1606.  storv  is  verv  slight ;  it  details  the  observa- 
tions and  reflections  of  a  young  Athenian  who,  in 
the  second  part  of  the  narrative,  visits  England  and 
expresses  his  opinions  on  society,  friendship,  love, 
philosophy,  and  religion.  The  peculiar  feature  of  this 
work  is  its  strange  and  ingenious  literary  style,  a  style 
so  distinctive  that  the  word  euphnistic  was  coined  to 
designate  it.  In  Lyly's  euphuism,  alliteration  played 
a  conspicuous  part ;  elaborately  balanced  antithesis  was 
curiously  studied  out ;  the  vocabulary  was  burdened 
with  unusual  and  bombastic  terms  ;  the  imagery  was 
forced  to  an  absurd  extravagance  and  made  much  use 
of  the  fabulous  material  which  may  at  one  time  have 
passed  for  natural  science.  The  whole  principle  of 
this  style  was  artificial :  — 

"  There  is  no  privilege  that  needeth  a  pardon,  neither  is 
there  any  remission  to  be  asked  where  a  commission  is  to 
be  granted.  I  speak  this,  gentlemen,  not  to  excuse  the  of- 
fence  which  was  taken  but  to  offer  a  deience  where  I  was 
mistaken." 

"  As  by  basil  the  scorpion  is  engendered,  and  by  the 
means  of  the  same  herb  destroyed  ...  or  as  the  salaman- 
der which  being  a  long  space  nourished  in  the  fire  at  last 
quencheth  it." 

These  may  be  taken  as  fair  illustrations  of  the  eccen- 
tricities of  euphuism ;  and  yet  Lyly's  style  became 
the  fashion,  not  only  in  the  literature  of  the  day,  but  to 
some  extent  even  in  the  sober  speech  of  polite  society. 
In  spite  of  its  oddities,  Euphuism  was  not  without 
wholesome  effect  upon  the  subsequent  structure  of  our 
English  prose,  encouraging  an  attention  and  a  care 
for  style  which  had   been  in  some  degree  neglected. 


JOHN   LYLY  125 

Following  the  success  of  Evphues,  Lyly  attached  him- 
self to  the  court  and  sought  an  appointment  as  Master 
of  the  Revels,  but  this  hope  was  never  gratified.  The 
author  of  Euphues,  however,  wrote  seven  or  eight  court 
comedies,  so-called,  which  were  rather  masques  l  than 
comedies,  as  we  use  the  latter  term.  Their  themes  were 
usually  the  elaborate  flattery  of  the  queen  ;  their  mate- 
rial and  their  titles  were  taken  from  the  classics.  Six 
of  Lyly's  plays  were  first  presented  before  Elizabeth 
herself  by  the  children's  companies  then  frequently 
employed.  The  more  important  of  the  comedies  are : 
Endimion,  Midas,  Sa]iho  and  Phao,  Alexander  and 
Campaspe,  Galatea.  Into  the  current  of  his  rather 
sluggish  dramas  Lyly  tossed  an  occasional  bit  of  lyric 
verse,  which,  more  than  anything  else  from  his  pen, 
appeals  to  the  appreciation  of  the  modern  reader.2 

The  influence  of  John  Lyly  upon  the  early  work  of 
Shakespeare  is  considerable.  Love's  Labour  's  Lost, 
A  Midsummer  Nightfs  Dream,  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,  and  As  You  Like  It  contain  many  sugges- 
tions of  this  "  Euphuist."  While  at  times  he  satirizes 
the  absurdities  of  euphuism,  Shakespeare,  like  his  con- 
temporaries, drops  easily  into  the  same  artificial  style. 
A  good  example  of  his  serious  use  of  that  peculiar 
diction  is  found  in  the  Duke's  speech  in  As  You  Like 
It,  Act  II.,  scene  i. 

Participating  in  the  dramatic  activity  of  this  prepar- 
atory period  were  George  Peele  (1558-97),  Peele 
author  of  The  Arraignment  of  Paris,  Tlie  K7d. 

....  Greene 

Chronicle  of  Edward  I.,  The  Love  of  King  Nash,  and 
David  and  Fair  Bethseba,  and  The  Battle  Lodee- 
of  Alcazar ;  Robert  Greene  (1560-92),  whose  plays, 
Alphonsus  King  of  Arragon,  Orlando  Furioso,  James 
IV.,  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  and  George- 

1  Page  147.  2  See  the  song  Cupid  and  My  Campaspe  Played. 


126  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

a -Greene,  struck  a  note  echoed  in  many  a  play  of 
the  greater  dramatist ;  and  Thomas  Kyd  (died  1594), 
author  of  The  Sjjanish  Tragedy.  Of  Kyd's  per- 
sonality we  know  little.  Peele  and  Greene  were  typ- 
ical bohemians  of  their  craft  and  day,  and  the  bre- 
vity of  their  career  is  significant  of  dissipation  and 
reckless  squandering  of  all  their  powers.  Intimately 
associated  with  these  writers  were  two  others,  Thomas 
Nash  (1567-1600)  and  Thomas  Lodge  (died  1625). 
Nash  and  Lodge  contributed  little  directly  to  the 
stage  ;  their  work  is  rather  in  the  field  of  prose  ro- 
mance, in  which  they  were  pioneers  with  Lyly  and 
also  Greene.  Lodge  was  the  author  of  Rosalynde, 
the  prototype  of  Shakespeare's  heroine  ;  Greene,  writer 
of  a  dozen  romances,  supplied  in  Pandosto  the  mate- 
rial for  The  Winter's  Tale.  Nash  was  a  realist,  and 
wrote  a  novel  called  The  Unfortunate  Traveller,  or 
the  Life  of  Jack  Wilton  (1594).  In  his  slight  contri- 
butions to  dramatic  literature  he  employed  the  method 
of  the  satirist. 

But  by  far  the  most  interesting  and  most  important 
of  Shakespeare's  predecessors  was  Marlowe,  who  was 
born  at  Canterbury,  the  son  of  a  shoemaker.  He 
received  a  university  training  at  Cambridge,  where  he 
took  his  bachelor's  degree  in  1583.  Of  his 
pher  early  life  we  know  less  even  than  of  Shake- 

Mariowe,  speare's,  but  his  first  play,  Timhurlainc,  was 
1664"93"  acted  in  1587  or  1588.  Then  followed  The 
Tragical  History  of  Doctor  Paustus,  The  Jew  of 
Malta,  and  Edward  II.,  three  great  plays  which  car- 
ried Marlowe  to  the  forefront  among  this  group  of 
dramatists,  profoundly  impressing  young  Shakespeare's 
swiftly  developing  genius,  and  giving  promise  of 
achievements  comparable  to  those  of  the  great  poet 
himself.      The  mere  fact  that  in  the  Jew  of  Malta 


CHRISTOPHER  MARLOWE  127 

Shakespeare  found  a  model  for  bis  creation  of  Shylock 
is  less  significant  than  the  close  resemblance  in  plan 
and  structure  between  Marlowe's  Edward  and  Shake- 
speare's Richard  II.  Indeed  the  former  play  may  be 
regarded  as  having  given  the  dramatic  "  history  "  its 
permanent  form.  In  1593,  five  years,  perhaps,  after 
the  completion  of  his  earliest  play,  Marlowe,  twenty- 
nine  years  old,  died  a  tragic  and  disgraceful  death. 
Such  was  the  end  of  not  a  few  of  the  brilliant  charac- 
ters who  wasted  genius  and  life  thus  in  the  prodigal 
age  of  the  great  queen. 

The  spirit  of  Marlowe's  dramatic  work  is  a  passion- 
ate thirst  for  power.  His  dramatis  personal  —  Mar- 
lowe himself  —  craved  that 

"  Solely  sovereign  sway  and  masterdom  " 

which  Shakespeare  included  as  an  object  in  the  o'er- 
reaching  ambition  of  Macbeth.  He  is  never  to  be 
ranked  among  the  minor  poets  of  his  time.  Marlowe's 
services  to  English  dramatic  art  were  of  prime  impor- 
tance. He  used  blank  verse  superbly.  It  was  no 
mere  hyperbole  of  compliment  that  Ben  Jonson  uttered 
when  he  spoke  of 

"  Marlowe's  mighty  line." 

Bombast  —  ever  a  delight  to  the  Elizabethan  ear  —  is 
frequent  enough  in  the  speeches  of  Marlowe's  charac- 
ters ;  but  even  here  there  is  an  irresistible  roll  in  the 
verse  that  speaks  of  an  imagination  and  a  strength 
destined  for  great  things.  In  the  drama  of  the  Scythian 
shepherd-warrior  Tamburlaine  occurs  this  character- 
istic scene,  which  may  illustrate  the  effectiveness  of  that 
"  mighty  line  :  "  — 

"  Tamburlaine.   Bring  out  my  footstool. 

[Bajazeth  is  taken  from  the  cage.] 


128  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

"  Bajazeth.   Ye  holy  priests  of  heavenly  Mahomet, 

That,  sacrificing,  slice  and  cut  your  flesh, 
Staining  his  altars  with  your  purple  hlood ; 
Make  Heaven  to  frown  and  every  fixed  star 
To  suck  up  poison  from  the  moorish  fens, 
And  pour  it  in  this  glorious  tyrant's  throat !  "  1 

Elsewhere  Tamburlaine  himself  discourses  thus :  — 

"  The  world  will  strive  with  hosts  of  men-at-arms, 
To  swarm  unto  the  ensign  I  support : 
The  host  of  Xerxes,  which  by  fame  is  said 
To  have  drank  the  mighty  Parthian  Araris, 
Was  but  a  handful  to  that  we  will  have. 
Our  quivering  lances,  shaking  in  the  air, 
And  bullets,  like  Jove's  dreadful  thunderbolts, 
Enrolled  in  flames  and  fiery  smouldering  mists, 
Shall  threat  the  gods  more  than  Cyclopian  wars  : 
And  with  our  sun-bright  armour  as  we  march, 
We  '11  chase  the  stars  from  Heaven  and  dim  their  eyes 
That  stand  and  muse  at  our  admired  arms."  2 

For  general  study  of  the  drama,  the  book  of  widest  utility 
-  and  of  chief  authority  is  A.  A.  Ward's  History 

tionsfor  of  English  Dramatic  Literature  (Macmillan,  3 
study.  vols.).     Also  important  is  Shakespeare's  Prede- 

cessors in  the  English  Drama,  by  John  Addington  Sy- 
monds  (Smith,  Elder  &  Co.).  The  English  Religious 
Drama,  by  Katharine  Lee  Bates  (Macmillan),  is  condensed 
and  can  be  used  to  advantage.  The  English  Miracle 
Plays,  by  Alfred  Pollard  (Clarendon  Press),  contains  good 
illustrations  of  the  early  drama.  Specimens  of  the  Pre- 
Shakespearian  Drama,  edited  by  J.  M.  Manly  (Ginn),  in- 
cludes, in  vol.  i.,  specimens  of  the  miracle  plays  and  mo- 
ralities, also  The  Four  P.'s,  by  Heywood,  and  Bale's  Kynge 
Johan.  Vol.  ii.  contains  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  Gam- 
mer Gurton's  Needle,  Cambises,  Gorboduc,  and  plays  by 
Lyly,  Greene,  Peele,  and  Kyd.  This  work  is  especially  val- 
uable, and  with  it  should  be  mentioned  The  Best  Eliza- 
bethan Plays,  edited  by  W '.  R.  Thayer  (Ginn),  which  gives 
the  text  of  Marlowe's  Jew  of  Malta,  Jonson's  The  Alchemist, 

1  Act  IV.  scene  ii.  1.  2  Act  II.  scene  ii.  13. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE  129 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Philastre,  The  Two  Noble  Kins- 
men  (in  part  attributed  to  Shakespeare),  and  Webster's  The 
Duchess  of  Malfi.  The  careful  reading  of  these  texts  is 
strongly  urged  upon  teachers.  An  acquaintance  with  the 
plays  is  worth  more  than  any  amount  of  reference  to  books 
which  describe  or  criticise  them  ;  and  these  collections  are  so 
easily  available  that  there  is  no  excuse  for  their  being  over- 
looked. The  most  important  plays  of  the  Elizabethan  dra- 
matists are  published  in  the  Mermaid  Series  (Scribner). 
The  volume  devoted  to  Marlowe  contains  all  his  plays,  and 
has  an  excellent  introduction  by  J.  A.  Symonds.  Other 
volumes  include  the  works  of  Massinger,  Middleton,  Beau- 
mont, and  Fletcher.  The  complete  works  of  Marlowe  have 
been  edited  by  F.  Cunningham  (Chatto  &  Windus),  also 
by  A.  H.  Bullen  (3  vols.),  in  The  English  Dramatists' 
Series.  In  the  series  of  English  Readings,  published  by 
Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  are  found  Lyly's  Endymion,  edited, 
with  a  critical  essay  upon  that  writer,  by  G.  P.  Baker,  and 
Marlowe's  Edward  II.,  edited  by  E.  T.  McLaughlin. 

Upon  dramatic  form  and  structure  there  is  no  more  com- 
prehensive study  than  Freytag's  Technique  of  the  Drama, 
translated  by  E.  J.  MacEwan  (Scott,  Foresman  &  Co.). 
The  Drama,  its  Law  and  Technique,  by  Elizabeth  Wood- 
bridge  (Allyn  &  Bacon),  is  a  usefid  book ;  it  is  much  briefer 
than  Freytag's  and  embodies  its  principles. 

For  an  account  of  the  times,  read  Shakespeare's  England, 
by  Edwin  Goadby  (Cassell),  The  Age  of  Elizabeth,  by  M. 
Creighton  {Historical  Epochs  Series,  Scribner),  chapter 
vii.  in  Green's  Short  History  of  the  English  People,  and 
Shakespeare  the  Boy,  by  W.  J.  Rolfe  (American  Book  Co.). 

V.    WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE    (1564-1616)   AND   HIS 
SUCCESSORS. 

While  the  last  stages  in  this  evolution  of  the  Eng- 
lish drama  were  passing  partly  within  the  brilliant  cir- 
cle of  Elizabeth's  court,  partly  amid  the  extravagant 
and  often  dissolute  scenes  of  bohemian  literary  life  in 


130  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

London,  there  was  developing  at  Stratford  on  Avon,  a 
quiet  village  of  Warwickshire,  — 

"  That  shire  which  we  the  heart  of  England  well  may  call  "  2 

—  a  youthful  genius  who  should  one  day  claim  domin- 
ion over  the  English  stage,  to  be  recognized  in  time  as 
the  greatest  among  all  the  men  of  genius  that  this  is- 
land kingdom  was  to  bear.  Of  his  life  we  know  all 
too  little  ;  and  yet  we  are  as  well  acquainted  with  it 
as  we  are  with  Spenser's  or  with  Chaucer's. 

William  Shakespeare  was  the  son  of  John  and  Mary 
instrat-  (Arden)  Shakespeare.  Neither  belonged  to 
ford-  the  educated  class  ;  but  that  during  the  poet's 

boyhood  they  enjoyed  the  respect  of  the  community  and 
were  fairly  prosperous  is  evident.  John  Shakespeare, 
according  to  custom,  practiced  two  or  three  related 
trades :  he  is  referred  to  as  a  glover,  as  a  butcher,  and 
as  a  dealer  in  wool  and  leather.  In  1558  he  was  elected 
a  member  of  the  Stratford  council ;  in  1559  he  was  ap- 
pointed constable.  In  fact  he  held  numerous  offices 
and  was  regarded  clearly  as  one  qualified  to  have  a 
considerable  share  in  the  oversight  of  town  affairs.  In 
1568  he  became  bailiff,  an  official  of  great  importance 
in  the  corporation  ;  he  was  afterward  made  chief  alder- 
man. Later  in  life  he  fell  into  financial  embarrassment 
and  seems  to  have  lost  his  standing  as  a  man  prominent 
in  public  service.  On  the  26th  of  April,  1564,  his  son, 
William,  was  baptized,  and  tradition  has  settled  upon 
the  23d  of  April  as  the  probable  date  of  the  poet's  birth. 
There  was  a  school  of  good  academic  grade  at  Strat- 
ford, the  free  grammar  school,  one  of  several  that  had 
been  reestablished  on  old  foundations  by  Edward  VI. 
Here  Shakespeare  received  such  educational  training 
as  the  schoolroom  could  provide.     Latin  grammar  and 

1  From  Michael  Drayton's  Polyolhion. 


IN  STRATFORD  131 

literature  must  have  formed  the  principal  subject  of  his 
study,  and  it  is  entirely  possible  that  the  school  offered 
instruction  in  both  French  and  Italian.  That  Shake- 
speare enjoyed  some  acquaintance  with  these  languages 
is  certain.  Ben  Jonson's  often  quoted  assertion  that 
his  fellow  dramatist  had  "  small  Latin  and  less  Greek  " 
should  be  understood  as  the  statement  of  a  critic  who 
was  himself  noted  for  classical  scholarship,  and  cer- 
tainly cannot  be  interpreted  as  affirming  the  poet's 
ignorance  of  either  language.  Conjecture  has  ascribed 
various  employments  to  the  son  of  John  Shakespeare, 
and  tradition  has  been  busy  with  hints  of  youthful  ex- 
ploits and  wilder  escapades. 

His  home  was  in  one  of  the  richest  and  most  beauti- 
ful shires  of  England,  —  a  region  of  fallow  field  and 
romantic  woodland,  of  winding  stream  and  quiet  coun- 
try landscape.  Footpaths  crossed  the  meadows  and 
ran  between  hedges  fragrant  with  spring  blossoms, 
melodious  with  the  songs  of  linnet  and  thrush.  Beyond 
the  smoothly  flowing  Avon  stretched  the  ancient  forest 
of  Arden  to  suggest  the  scenes  that  delight  us  in  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  and  As 
You  Like  It.  There  were  little  hamlets  scattered  over 
the  countryside ;  here  and  there  were  the  extensive 
parks  and  imposing  manor  houses  of  the  gentry.  To 
the  north,  only  the  distance  of  a  wholesome  country  walk, 
stood  Warwick  Castle.  Kenilworth  was  but  fifteen 
miles  away,  where  the  Earl  of  Leicester  elaborately 
entertained  the  queen  with  masques  and  pageants  on 
the  occasion  of  a  royal  visit  in  1575,  when  Shakespeare 
was  eleven  years  old.  Only  a  few  miles  beyond  Kenil- 
worth lay  historic  Coventry,  at  that  time  the  third  city 
in  England,  where  miracle  plays  were  performed  as  late 
as  1580,  when  Shakespeare  was  a  boy  of  sixteen.  Amid 
the  memories  and  inspirations  of  these  diverse  scenes, 


132  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

William  Shakespeare  grew  into  the  possession  of  his 
poetic  power. 

In  the  fall  of  1582  this  youth  was  married  to  Anne 
Hathaway,  daughter  of  a  well-to-do  farmer  living  in  the 
neighboring  hamlet  of  Shottery.  The  bride  was  eight 
years  the  senior  of  her  husband.  In  the  following  year 
their  daughter  Susanna  was  born.  Two  other  children, 
twins,  Hamnet  and  Judith,  were  born  early  in  1585 ; 
and  later  in  that  year,  or  in  the  year  following,  Shake- 
speare left  Stratford,  to  appear  soon  after  in  London, 
where  for  twenty  years  he  seems  to  have  made  his  home. 

When  Shakespeare  came  to  London  —  that  was  in- 
The  spirit  deed  the  marking  of  an  epoch  in  English  let- 
of  the  Age.  ^erSt  It  was  an  auspicious  time  for  the  advent 
of  this  gifted  youth.  The  exhilaration  of  a  great  en- 
thusiasm was  in  the  air.  It  was  a  period  of  extra- 
ordinary enterprise  and  the  most  daring  achievements. 
A  remarkable  growth  in  national  spirit  was  the  dis- 
tinguishing feature  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  and  various 
natural  causes  contributed  to  this  growth.  The  re- 
ligious troubles,  which  arose  in  the  time  of  Henry 
VIII.  and  reached  their  terrible  climax  in  the  reign 
of  Mary,  were  now  allayed,  and  a  spirit  of  tolerance 
insured  an  era  of  religious  liberty  gratefully  welcomed 
by  the  nation  at  large.  A  notable  activity  in  all 
kinds  of  trade,  and  general  prosperity,  the  result  of  a 
rapidly  developing  commerce,  gave  a  new  confidence 
to  the  kingdom  caught  in  such  desperate  straits  by 
the  unfortunate  policy  of  Mary.  The  spirit  of  expan- 
sion possessed  the  age,  and  admiration  succeeded  won- 
der at  the  deeds  of  Elizabeth's  knights  and  admirals. 
In  Shakespeare's  boyhood  Sir  Francis  Drake  accom- 
plished the  circumnavigation    of    the    globe.1     While 

1  Read  in   Green's  Short  History   of  the  English  People   the  para- 
graph on  "  The  Sea  Dogs,"  ch.  vii.  §  13. 


THE   SPIRIT   OF  THE   AGE  133 

he  was  still  in  his  teens,  Englishmen  were  dreaming 
of  conquest  and  colonies  in  the  new  world.  He  was 
already  making  his  way  in  London  when  there  oc- 
curred that  momentous  event  which  we  call  the  defeat 
of  the  Great  Armada,  an  event  which  not  only  filled 
all  England  with  the  joy  of  an  unprecedented  victory, 
but  which  banished  for  the  time  the  chance  of  foreign 
interference  in  Church  or  State.  As  a  result  of  these 
favoring  conditions,  the  whole  kingdom  awoke  to  a 
sudden  sense  of  its  own  greatness  and  power.  More- 
over, the  hearts  of  the  people  were  united  in  a  warmth 
of  passionate  devotion  to  their  queen,  a  devotion  which 
seems  to  have  thrown  the  idealism  of  a  romantic  chiv- 
alry over  all  the  relations  of  subject  and  sovereign. 
Elizabeth's  courtiers  were  extravagant  in  the  expression 
of  their  worship.  The  Earl  of  Hatton  declared  that 
"  to  see  her  was  Heaven ;  the  lack  of  her  was  Hell." 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  the  Earl  of  Essex,  Raleigh,  Wal- 
singham,  Lord  Burleigh,  the  Earl  of  Leicester  —  all 
were  leaders  in  the  brilliant  group  of  cavaliers  who 
waited  on  the  queen.  Some  of  these  men  aspired  to 
the  most  intimate  relations  with  their  sovereign  ;  some 
were  themselves  distinguished  by  their  contributions  to 
the  literature  of  the  age,  and  were  noted  for  their  gen- 
erous patronage  of  writers  more  gifted  than  themselves. 
Drake,  Frobisher,  Hawkins,  Grenville,  were  among  the 
most  famous  of  the  gallant  sailors  who  helped  to  make 
their  country  feared  on  every  sea.  These  men  felt  the 
spirit  of  the  time,  and  each  in  his  own  way  obeyed  an 
impulse  that  was  irresistible.  There  was  a  feverish  ex- 
altation, an  exuberant  extravagance  in  private  as  well 
as  public  enterprise.  Young  men  scarce  out  of  boy- 
hood embarked  on  hazardous  ventures.  Vast  fortunes 
were  squandered  as  recklessly  as  they  had  been  gath- 
ered.    Men  as  well  as  women  wore  rich  and  striking 


134  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

costumes.  Novel  luxuries  found  their  way  into  use. 
Architecture  improved,  spacious  halls  and  splendid 
mansions  were  erected.  Forks  were  introduced,  and 
table  etiquette  improved  along  with  a  more  luxurious 
service.  Great  sums  were  expended  in  pageants  and 
entertainments,  to  which  the  common  citizens  were 
often  admitted.  Men  thought  and  spoke  as  they  dressed 
and  planned  —  lavishly.  The  highly  elaborate  and 
artificial  diction  affected  by  Lyly  and  Sidney  was  imi- 
tated and  exaggerated  by  the  court ;  it  too  was  signifi- 
cant of  the  time.  In  this  epoch  the  imagination  ruled. 
Sidney,  Spenser,  Marlowe,  and  Shakespeare  were  as 
truly  types  of  the  age  in  literature  as  were  the  men  of 
daring  and  brilliant  action  already  named.  In  the 
light  of  such  conditions  we  may  appreciate  the  language 
of  the  French  historian  Taine,  when,  in  introducing  his 
chapter  on  Shakespeare,  he  declares  that  this  great  age 
alone  could  have  cradled  such  a  child. 

This  was  the  character  of  the  time  when  Shake- 
speare came  to  London.  The  Shepherds'  Calendar 
had  been  written  at  Penshurst,  where  Sidney  had 
framed  the  passionate  sonnets  comprised  in  Astrophel 
and  Stella,  and  Spenser  was  now  in  Ireland  busy  in 
his  leisure  over  the  first  three  books  of  The  Faerie 
Queene.  Francis  Bacon,  recently  admitted  to  the  bar, 
was  pursuing  his  unhappy  career  in  search  of  prefer- 
ment at  court,  and  accepting  favors  from  the  young 
Earl  of  Essex,  then  prime  favorite  with  the  queen. 
Ben  Jonson  was  attending  Westminster  School,  a  lad 
of  twelve.  The  comedies  of  Lyly  were  in  fashion  with 
the  court.  Peele  and  Greene  were  in  their  prime,  and 
Marlowe  was  at  work  on  Tamburlaine,  his  first  success. 

There  is  no  exact  record  of  Shakespeare's  first  ex- 
periences at  the  capital.  In  some  manner  he  found 
employment  at  one  of  the  two  playhouses  then  open, 


136  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

probably  in  some  subordinate  position  such  as  care- 
taker or  servant  for  the  benefit  of  patrons. 
Then  he  became  a  member  of  the  company, 
and  in  the  adaptation  of  old  plays  he  doubtless  began 
his  apprenticeship  as  a  writer  for  the  stage.  In  time, 
as  his  ability  was  recognized,  he  was  set  at  more  ambi- 
tious tasks,  and,  first  in  collaboration  with  established 
playwrights,  then  in  the  full  freedom  of  his  own  exu- 
berant fancy,  he  began  to  produce  his  works.  Of 
Shakespeare's  success  as  an  actor  few  notes  have  been 
preserved.  He  is  described  by  one  contemporary  as 
"  excellent  in  the  quality  he  professes."  1  Another 
says  that  he  was  "  a  handsome,  well-shaped  man,"  and 
an  old  actor,  William  Beeston,  asserted  that  he  "  did 
act  exceeding  well."  We  know  that  Shakespeare  ap- 
peared in  two  of  Ben  Jonson's  plays,  Every  Man  in 
his  Humor  and  Sejanus  ;  also  that  he  played  the  part 
of  Adam  in  As  You  Like  It  and  the  Ghost  in  Ham- 
let ;  by  one  writer  2  this  last  role  was  referred  to  as  "  the 
top  of  his  performance."  That  he  played  principal 
parts  in  all  his  own  dramas  is  affirmed  in  the  first  col- 
lected edition  (1G23)  of  his  works. 

Shakespeare's  hand  is  felt  in  Titus  Andronicus 
and  in  the  First  Part  of  King  Henry  VI  Concern- 
ing the  former  there  is  a  tradition  that  some  dramatist, 
His  First  now  unidentified,  brought  the  play  to  Shake- 
Period,  speare's  company,  and  that  it  was  turned  over 
to  the  poet  for  revision.  The  "history"  may  have 
been  written  by  Marlowe  and  Shakespeare  in  con- 
junction. About  1590  the  young  dramatist  began 
original  work.  The  result  of  the  next  five  years  in- 
cluded Love's  Labour 's  Lost,  Comedy  of  Errors,  Tico 
Gentlemen  of  Verona,  A  Midsummer  flight's  Dream, 

1  Henry  Chettle,  publisher  of  Greene's  Pamphlet,  1592. 

2  Nicholas  Rowe. 


HIS  FIRST  PERIOD  137 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  the  Second  and  Third  Parts  of 
King  Henry  VI,  Richard  III.,  Richard  II,  and 
King  John.  Because  of  their  preponderance,  this  is 
often  called  the  period  of  the  early  comedies  and  his- 
tories. As  it  represents  the  experimental  stage  of 
Shakespeare's  activity,  Mr.  Dowden  describes  it  by  the 
phrase  "  In  the  Workshop."  That  the  poet's  power 
was  recognized  is  evident  from  an  interesting  note  of 
the  time  which  also  indicates  that  his  success  was  suffi- 
ciently marked  to  rouse  the  jealousy  of  some  older 
men.  In  1592  appeared  a  little  book  entitled  A 
Groatsivorth  of  Wit,  the  last  utterance  of  the  popular 
and  profligate  playwright,  Robert  Greene,  who  died  in 
beggary  just  before  the  publication  of  his  pamphlet. 
In  a  spirit  of  bitterness  Greene  remonstrates  against 
the  habits  of  new  writers,  accusing  them  of  making 
too  free  with  the  material  of  his  own  plays  and  the 
productions  of  his  friends,  Marlowe  and  Peele.  One 
sentence  of  his  indictment  addressed  to  the  writers 
named  gains  importance  because  of  its  reference  to 
Shakespeare  :  — 

"  Yes,  trust  them  not,"  he  says,  "  for  there  is  an  upstart 
Crow  beautified  with  our  feathers,  that  with  his  Tygers 
heart  wrapped  in  a  players  hide,  supposes  he  is  as  well  able 
to  bumbast  out  a  blanke  verse  as  the  best  of  you :  and  being 
an  absolute  Johannes  Factotum  is,  in  his  owne  conceit,  the 
only  Shake-scene  in  the  countrie." 

In  the  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  VI.  occurs  the 
line, 

"  Oh  Tiger's  heart  wrapt  in  a  woman's  hide," 

and  the  allusion  in  Greene's  attack  suggests  that  pos- 
sibly he,  at  least  in  part,  was  author  of  the  original 
plays  which  Shakespeare  recast  finally  in  the  Second 
and  Third  Parts  of  King  Henry  VI.  But  the  charge 
made  by  Greene  is  of  importance  mainly  as  being  the 


138  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

earliest  known  allusion  to  the  poet  in  print,  and  as 
throwing  light  upon  the  nature  of  his  labors  and  their 
success.  In  a  publication  only  three  months  later, 
Chettle  apologizes  for  this  reference,  and  warmly  ap- 
proves the  dramatist  and  his  art.  The  dedication  of 
the  two  poems,  Venus  and  Adonis  and  The  Rape  of 
Lucrece  (1593,  1594),  is  ample  proof  of  Shake- 
speare's recognition  by  those  who  patronized  the  arts. 

Between  1595  and  1601  Shakespeare  wrote  The  Mer- 
chant of  Venice,  the  two  parts  of  King  Henry  IV., 
King  Henry  V,  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  Taming  of 
Second  ^ie  Shrew,  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  As 
period.  You  Like  It,  Twelfth  Night.  This  is  the 
period  of  the  later  comedies  —  what  Dowclen  denomi- 
nates "  In  the  World."  Here  we  fall  immediately  under 
the  spell  of  Shakespeare's  perfect  art.  Never  have 
sentiment  and  romance,  pathos  and  humor,  mingled  so 
exquisitely  as  in  these  beautiful  creations  of  rich  poetic 
fancy  and  dramatic  power.  Five  at  least  of  the  plays 
are  masterpieces.  Elizabeth  is  said  to  have  been  so 
taken  with  the  character  of  Falstaff  in  King  Henry 
IV.  that  she  bade  the  author  show  that  personage  in 
love  ;  and  tradition  ascribes  the  creation  of  the  Merry 
Wives  to  this  command.  Evidences  of  the  poet's 
prosperity  are  not  wanting.  In  1597  John  Shake- 
speare was  allowed  the  grant  of  a  coat  of  arms  ;  there- 
after the  title  "  Gentleman  "  appears  following  any 
legal  mention  of  Shakespeare's  name.  In  that  same 
year  the  playwright  purchased  New  Place  in  Strat- 
ford, the  home  he  occupied  after  his  retirement  from 
the  stage.  This  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  invest- 
ments which  imply  a  thrifty  disposition  as  well  as 
financial  success.  In  1597  also  begins  the  publication 
of  Shakespeare's  plays.  Sixteen  of  these  were  printed 
during  the  author's  lifetime,  and  these  were  published 


THIRD   PERIOD  139 

without  his  authority  or  supervision.  His  revenue 
came  from  the  theatre  for  which  he  wrote,  and  it  was 
for  his  pecuniary  interest  that  his  productions  should 
remain  the  exclusive  property  of  the  company  to  which 
he  belonged.  There  was  then  no  privilege  of  copy- 
right and  no  protection  for  an  author  if  his  work  was 
stolen  or  published  in  imperfect  form.  But  in  the 
case  of  Shakespeare,  the  publication  of  the  plays,  be- 
ginning with  Richard  II,  Richard  III.,  and  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  in  1597,  seems  to  indicate  the  rising  fame 
of  the  dramatist,  and  the  desire  of  readers  to  become 
acquainted  with  his  works.  The  plays  thus  printed 
singly,  previous  to  1623,  are  distinguished  by  their  form 
as  the  quarto  texts. 

In  1598  Francis  Meres,  in  his  book  Palladis  Tamia 
(The  Wit's  Treasury},  enumerates  the  titles  of  twelve 
plays  which  in  his  opinion  prove  the  English  dramatist 
comparable  to  Plautus  and  Seneca  among  the  Latins. 
This  mention  of  the  poet's  work  is  exceedingly  valua- 
ble in  helping  to  fix  the  chronology  of  the  plays.  The 
famous  Globe  Theatre  was  built  in  1599,  and  from 
the  first  Shakespeare  appears  to  have  owned  a  large 
share  in  the  property ;  there  is  a  tradition  that  the 
young  Earl  of  Southampton  had  once  made  the  drama- 
tist a  gift  of  £1000,  which  may  have  helped  him  to  this 
investment.  Such  generosity  from  a  patron  of  art  is  by 
no  means  incredible  or  unlikely.  The  Earl  of  Essex 
had  bestowed  on  Francis  Bacon  a  much  larger  gift. 

Now  follows  a  distinct  epoch  in  the  dramatist's  ca- 
reer. It  is  the  period  of  his  great  trage-  Third 
dies,  the  masterpieces  of  the  English  stage.  Perlod- 
Within  the  first  six  or  seven  years  of  the  new  century 
were  produced,  in  rapid  succession,  Julius  Caesar, 
Hamlet,  Othello,  Lear,  Macbeth;  also  two  serious 
comedies,  All 's  Well    that  Ends  Well  and  Measure 


t40  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

for  Measure,  together  with  one  "  history,"  Troilus 
and  Cressida.  It  may  be  that  in  this  extraordinary 
grouping  of  material  turbulent  with  passion,  heavy 
with  the  gloom  of  human  tragedy,  the  pathos  and 
catastrophe  of  life,  we  should  see  only  the  marvelous 
creations  of  a  philosopher  whose  imagination  laid  closer 
hold  on  the  motives  and  emotions  of  man  than  that  of 
any  other  dreamer  or  seer  that  we  have  ever  known, 
and  that  the  tone  of  these  dramas  is  not  to  be  regarded 
as  especially  significant  of  the  poet's  own  mental  atti- 
tude during  this  time.  But  such  imaginings  can  hardly 
come  from  even  the  most  profound  of  human  minds 
until  it  has  been  harrowed  by  some  stern  experience. 
In  Measure  for  Measure  the  Duke  thus  reasons  with 
life  :  — 

"  If  I  do  lose  thee,  I  do  lose  a  thing' 
That  none  but  fools  would  keep,"  1 

—  a  sentiment  in  harmony  with  the  desperate  philoso- 
phy of  Macbeth  :  — 

"  It  is  a  tale 

Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 

Signifying  nothing."2 

To  this  period  of  tragic  mood  has  Dowden,  not  inap- 
propriately, applied  the  motto  "  Out  of  the  Depths." 

Whatever  may  have  directly  inspired  these  intense 
studies  of  the  sadder  phases  in  life's  drama,  there  cer- 
tainly was  no  falling  off  in  the  financial  prosperity  of 
Shakespeare,  for  large  investments  were  made  in  1G02 
and  1605.  Professionally,  the  company  of  which  he 
was  a  member  passed  under  the  patronage  of  James  I., 
and  when  that  monarch  made  his  royal  entry  into  Lon- 
don, March  15,  1604,  Shakespeare  was  one  of  the  nine 
actors  composing  the  band  of  King's  Players  who 
walked  in  the  procession  from  the  Tower  to  West- 
minster. And  not  long  after  this  event  he  seems  to 
1  Act  III.  scene  i.  5.  2  Act  V.  scene  v.  20. 


THE   SONNETS  141 

have  left  the  stage  of  the  theatre,  although  he  continued 
to  reside  in  London,  and  followed  his  calling  as  a  play- 
wright for  several  years. 

The  last  group  of  dramas  from  Shakespeare's  hand 
belongs  to  the  period  between  1607  and  1612.  F0urth 
It  comprises  two  Roman  "histories,"  Antony  Perlod- 
and  Cleopatra  and  Coriolanns.  Timon  of  Athens 
and  Pericles  represent  the  work  of  another  dramatist, 
Shakespeare  apparently  having  given  only  final  touches 
to  these  plays.  The  finest  compositions  in  this  last 
group  are  the  romantic  dramas  Cymbeline,  The  Tem- 
pest, and  The  Winter' 's  Tale.  The  spirit  of  these 
romances  is  calm  and  joyous  ;  the  stress  of  unjust  sus- 
picion and  cruel  harshness  is  softened  into  reconciliation 
and  atonement.  The  action  lies  wholly  in  the  pleasant 
dreamland  of  a  poet's  imagination,  and  the  happiness 
of  childhood  and  youth  reigns  care-free  in  each  conclu- 
sion. The  pageant  of  King  Henry  VIII.,  but  slightly 
touched  by  the  great  dramatist,  may  be  included  as 
containing  traces  of  Shakespeare's  workmanship,  the 
last  dramatic  labor  of  the  poet  so  far  as  known. 

Shakespeare's  /Sonnets,  which  had  been  accumulat- 
ing for  ten  years  or  more,  were  published  without  the 
author's  sanction  in  1609.  The  story  which  The 
they  seem  to  tell  has  caused  much  discussion,  Sonnets- 
and  various  unsatisfactory  attempts  have  been  made 
to  interpret  them.  If  they  contain  anything  more  sub- 
stantial than  the  fiction  of  fancy,  it  is  unlikely  that 
they  will  ever  be  reduced  to  the  details  of  fact. 

"  With  this  key 
Shakespeare  unlocked  his  heart," 

says  Wordsworth. 

"  Did  Shakespeare  ?     If  so,  the  less  Shakespeare  he  !  " 

comments  Browning.1 

1  Wordsworth,  Scorn  not  the  Sonnet ;  Browning,  House. 


142  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  during  Shakespeare's 
Last  brilliant  course  in  London  his  heart  had  been 

Years.  entirely  weaned  from  his  family  and  home  in 

Stratford.  There  are  traditions  of  visits  more  or  less 
regularly  paid  ;  and  at  the  age  of  forty-five  or  six,  the 
poet  turned  his  back  upon  the  excitements  and  conten- 
tions, the  rivalries  and  triumphs  of  city  life,  apparently 
longing  for  the  quiet  retirement  of  his  native  town. 
An  occasional  trip  to  London  to  renew  professional 
associations  there  might  serve  to  break  the  monotony 
of  village  calm,  while  now  and  then  old  comrades 
dropped  in  upon  his  leisure  at  New  Place.  Thus  in 
prosperous  ease  the  poet  lived  at  Stratford  until  the 
year  1616.  His  earliest  biographer,  Nicholas  Rowe, 
upon  the  authority  of  John  Ward,  parish  minister, 
says  that  in  the  spring  of  that  year  Shakespeare  was 
unwell  ;  that  he  left  his  bed  unwisely  to  join  in  the 
convivial  entertainment  of  guests  from  London,  of 
whom  one  was  Ben  Jonson  ;  that  a  fever  followed  the 
merry-making,  and  that  on  the  anniversary  of  his 
birth,  April  23,  he  died. 

In  our  appreciation  of  Shakespeare's  genius,  we 
shake-  should  be  careful  to  maintain  a  reasonable 
speare's  attitude  toward  the  great  poet-dramatist  of 
our  literature.  The  impressiveness  of  these 
tremendous  dramas  combines  with  the  traditions  of 
three  centuries  of  praise  to  exalt  this  man  so  high  as 
to  remove  him  utterly  from  the  level  of  common  men. 
Yet  Shakespeare  possessed  no  superhuman  gifts.  Such 
an  attitude  of  extravagant  sentiment  is  as  unworthy  of 
its  object  as  is  that  of  indifference  or  ignorance.  In 
all  particulars  Shakespeare  was  emphatically  human, 
—  in  endowments,  in  development,  in  responsiveness 
to  the  spirit  of  his  age,  in  his  business  instincts,  his 
professional  ambitions,  his  personal  conduct,  especially 


HIS   PLOTS  143 

in  broad,  frank  sympathy  with  his  fellow  men  ;  nor 
did  the  master  enter  into  the  rich  heritage  of  his  genius 
until  he  had  fulfilled  the  conditions  to  which  genius 
itself  is  subject ;  Shakespeare,  even,  must  learn  his  art. 

Upon  the  superficial  faults   in   Shakespeare's  style 
we  do  not  need  to  pause  :  his  inconsistent  grammar, 
his  obscurities  of  phrase,  the  errors   in  statement  of 
fact,  the  anachronisms,  the  over-readiness  to  word-play, 
the    hyperbole,   the   gross   exaggeration,   the   TheArt 
bombast.    Some  of  these  faults  were  modified  of  shako- 
with  maturity  ;  some  of  them  were  the  com-   speare- 
mon  faults  of  the  age  and  shared  by  his  contempora- 
ries.    His  art  was  greater  than  these  and  is  not  affected 
by  such  casual  defects. 

Shakespeare  was  not  a  'constructor  of  plots  —  he  bor- 
rowed. The  historical  plays  are  drawn  from  His 
Holinshed  and  Hall,  or  from  Plutarch's  Lives.  plots- 
The  sources  of  King  Learr  Macbeth,  and  Cymbeline 
are  also  in  the  chronicles.  Most  of  the  comedies,  and 
several  of  the  tragedies,  are  mere  dramatizations  of 
English  and  Italian  romances.  The  Comedy  of  Er- 
rors owes  its  material  to  Plautus ;  the  Midsummer 
Night's  Dream  makes  free  use  of  Ovid.  Two  plays, 
Love's  Labour 's  Lost  and  The  Tempest,  have  not  yet 
been  traced  to  any  known  original,  although  there  are 
internal  evidences  that  the  stories  of  these  also  are 
from  French  or  Italian  romance.  One  play  alone,  The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  seems  to  have  a  plot  wholly 
original  with  Shakespeare.  Yet  this  statement  reflects 
in  no  wise  upon  the  integrity  or  even  the  originality  of 
the  poet's  work ;  rather  it  exalts  his  power  in  having 
been  able  thus  to  impart  such  extraordinary  strength 
and  life-likeness  to  characters  devoid  of  these  qualities 
in  the  hands  of  their  first  creators.  In  that  field  of 
composition  which  we  call  invention,  Shakespeare  was 


144  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

weak.  Not  only  are  his  plots  thus  borrowed,  but  the 
incidents  which  contribute  to  the  action  of  the  plays 
are  often  trivial,  obviously  artificial,  and  frequently  in- 
adequate to  serve  as  parts  in  the  machinery  of  some 
great  drama.  The  dramatic  structure  of  the  earlier 
plays  is  loose.  Scene  is  carelessly  added  to  scene,  and 
there  is  not  infrequently  a  lack  of  real  organic  unity 
and  growth  ;  but  after  the  poet  reached  the  second 
period  of  his  experience,  this  prime  defect  is  overcome. 
lie  learned  to  be  a  master  of  dramatic  technique. 

In  the  interpretation  of  human  motives  and  pas- 
His  Char-  sions,  in  the  characterization  of  his  dramatis 
acters.  personce,   Shakespeare  is    transcendent.     He 

projects  these  men  and  woman  absolutely  outside  his 
own  personality.  How  perfectly  individualized  they 
are  :  Shylock  and  Iago,  Harry  Percy  and  Harry  Mon- 
mouth, Portia  of  Belmont  and  Portia  of  Rome,  Sir 
John  Kalstaff  and  Sir  Toby  Belch,  Launce  and  Launce- 
lot,  the  Fool  in  Twelfth  Might  and  the  Fool  in  Lear, 
Ophelia,  Juliet,  Desdemona,  Perdita,  and  Rosalind; 
what  variety  in  character  and  in  motive  for  action. 
The  proud  integrity  of  Brutus  is  beguiled  by  the  wily 
politician  Cassius  ;  Othello's  jealousy  is  inflamed  by 
the  villainous  Iago  ;  on  the  other  hand,  Macbeth,  pos- 
sessed by  his  wicked  ambition,  is  hurried  headlong 
through  crime  to  his  own  disaster,  while  Lear,  inno- 
cenl  of  guilt,  is  betrayed  by  his  own  willful  folly.  Ham- 
let falls  a  victim  of  circumstances  and  because  of  his 
inability  to  grapple  with  "outrageous  fortune."  Shake- 
speare's power  in  objective  creation  is  without  approach 
in  literature.  Two  hundred  and  forty-six  distinctly 
marked  personalities  have  been  counted  in  these  plays, 
omitting  those  of  doubtful  authorship  and  those  writ- 
ten in  collaboration  with  others.1  Shakespeare's  por- 
1  C.  F.  Johnson,  Essentials  of  Literary  Criticism. 


POET   AND   PHILOSOPHER  145 

traitures  are  not  untrue  to  life.  His  world  is  the 
world  of  romance,  to  be  sure,  rather  than  the  world 
of  realistic  commonplace  ;  and  in  these  representations 
of  emotion,  of  passion,  of  guilt,  remorse,  despair,  or  of 
affection,  devotion,  sacrifice,  repentance,  reconciliation, 
there  is  an  intensity  of  force,  a  crowding  of  details  into 
moments,  that  naturally  suggest  an  artificial  rather 
than  a  realistic  handling  ;  but  this  concentration  of 
effect  is  incidental  to  the  necessities  of  the  stage,  and 
indeed  of  all  literary  art,  and  includes  a  larger  expres- 
sion of  the  truth  than  mere  photographic  transcripts 
of  the  more  leisurely  passages  in  ordinary  life. 

We  are  to  look  upon  Shakespeare  as  more  than  a 
playwright.      In  spirit  as  in  form  of  expression  he  is 
a  poet  of  the  highest  rank.     The  songs  which  are  so 
richly  strewn  upon  the  dialogue  of  his  scenes  are  lyrics 
of  the  finest  order;    but   in  the   perfect  im-  Poetand 
agery  of  his  comparisons,  the  exquisite  pic-  pmioso- 
tures  of  natural  beauty,  the  superb  sweep  of  p 
his  splendid  verse,  his  poetic  power  is  as  masterful  as 
it  is  lavishly  bestowed.     In  his  view  of  life  and  his  in- 
terpretation of  the  thoughts  and  actions  of  men,  Shake- 
speare proves  his  right  to  a  place  among  the  sanest  and 
wisest  of  philosophers.     He  reads  men  sympathetically 
and  justly. 

"  The  web  of  our  life  is  of  a  mingled  yarn,  good  and  ill 
together :  our  virtues  would  be  proud,  if  our  faults  whipped 
them  not ;  and  our  crimes  would  despair  if  they  were  not 
cherished  by  our  virtues," 

says  one  of  the  poet's  moralizing  counselors  ; *  and  it  is 
this  recognition  of  mingled  good  and  ill  in  human  life 
and  conduct,  his  perfect  freedom  from  cant  or  preju- 
dice, as  well  as  the  uncompromising  soundness  of  his 

'  First  Lord  in  All  '.s  Well  that  Ends  Well,  Act  IV.  scene  iii.  67. 


146  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

moral  judgment  in  the  treatment  of  evil,  that  has  made 
the  great  dramatist  one  of  the  great  teachers  of  the 
world. 

"  Dost  thou  think  because  thou  art  virtuous  there 
shall  be  no  more  cakes  and  ale  ?  "  demands  that  in- 
dignant scapegrace,  Sir  Toby  Belch,  of  the  fanatical 
Malvolio  ; 1  and  we  admit  that  Sir  Toby  is  within  the 
law  :  but  our  consciences  applaud  that  profounder  sen- 
timent, the  ripened  fruit  of  Shakespeare's  maturer 
mind,  to  which  he  gives  expression  in  The  Tempest, 
subtlest  of  all  his  plays.  Here  Ariel,  addressing  the 
three  men  of  sin,  declares  :  — 

"  The  powers,  delaying,  not  forgetting,  have 
Incensed  the  seas  and  shores,  yea,  all  the  creatures 
Against  your  peace.  .  .  . 

Whose  wraths  to  guard  you  from,  — 
Which  here  in  this  most  desolate  isle,  else  falls 
Upon  your  heads,  —  is  nothing,  but  heart-sorrow 
And  a  clear  life  ensuing."  2 

Finally,  it  is  fair  to  ask,  did  Shakespeare  have  a 
conscious  moral  purpose  in  the  creation  of  his  dramas  ? 
Hla  Such  a  theory  is  not  sustained  by  a  study 

purpose.  0f  the  plays.  That  a  definite  moral  effect 
should  be  felt  in  these  impressive  compositions  is  in- 
evitable. The  true  artist  dominates  his  work  however 
objectively  he  may  write ;  he  is  still  within  as  well  as 
without  the  characters  he  creates.  His  ideals  will  not 
be  wholly  hidden  ;  and  as  he  rouses  sympathy  with 
this  success  or  with  that  defeat,  so  will  he  indicate  the 
direction  in  which  his  judgment  falls.  One  thing  is 
sure  :  there  is  no  allegory  in  Shakespeare's  plays.  His 
creatures  are  neither  caricatures  nor  types;  they  are 
as  truly  real  as  though  they  were  flesh  and  blood. 
Romeo,  Othello,  Hotspur,  Hamlet,  are  not  types  pre- 

l  Twelfth  Night,  Act  II.  scene  iii.  105.  2  Act  III.  scene  iii. 


BEN  JONSON  147 

senting  passion  of  love,  jealousy,  rashness,  indecision ; 
they  are  men,  —  men  who  are  recognized  as  governed 
strongly  by  these  qualities,  yet  moving  with  all.  the 
freedom  and  uncertainty  of  men.  The  great  drama- 
tist has  himself  avowed  his  only  conscious  purpose  in 
that  often  quoted  comment  upon  the  ethics  of  his 
craft : — 

"  The  purpose  of  playing",  whose  end,  both  at  the  first  and 
now,  was  and  is,  to  hold,  as  'twere,  the  mirror  up  to  Nature, 
to  show  virtue  her  own  feature,  scorn  her  own  image,  and 
the  very  age  and  body  of  the  time  his  form  and  pressure."  1 

This  we  may  assume  upon  the  authority  of  Shakespeare 

himself  to  have  been  the  ideal  of  his  art. 

Next  to  Shakespeare's  name,  that  of  Ben  Jonson  is 

best  known  in  the  list  of  those  who  were  asso-  _     T 

.  #  ,  Ben  Jon- 

rial  cd  with  the  theatre  in  the  time  of  Eliza-   son,i573?- 

beth  and  James.  Of  all  the  dramatists  con- 
tinuing after  Shakespeare's  death,  he  was  the  greatest. 
Jonson  was  born  in  London  about  1573.  His  father 
was  a  clergyman  ;  but  he  had  been  a  month  dead  when 
his  son  was  born,  and  his  mother  marrying  again,  the 
boy  had  for  stepfather  a  master  bricklayer,  who  may 
have  compelled  him  to  learn  that  trade.  He  was  edu- 
cated, however,  in  Westminster  School,  and  then  for  a 
brief  term  at  Cambridge.  During  his  youth  he  had 
also  enlisted  as  a  soldier,  and  had  been  with  the  army 
in  the  Netherlands.  But  Ben  Jonson  was  naturally  a 
scholar,  and  soon  betook  himself  to  writing  for  the 
stage.  His  name  is  mentioned  by  Frances  Meres2  in 
1598  as  one  of  "  our  best  for  Tragedie."  Much  of  his 
early  work  was  done  in  collaboration  with  others.  In 
1598  he  produced  an  excellent  comedy,  Every  Man  in 
his  Humour,  a  play  which  Shakespeare  is  said  to  have 
secured  for  his  own  company,  and  in  the  presentation 
1  Hamlet,  Act  III.  scene  iL  2  See  page  75. 


148  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

of  which  he  certainly  acted  a  part.  In  1599  there 
followed  a  companion  piece  in  Every  Man  out  of  his 
Humour ;  the  word  humour  in  these  titles  being  used 
in  the  sense  of  caprice,  vagary,  or  hobby.  Jonson  wrote 
many  masques  for  presentation  at  court.  The  masque 
was  a  form  of  drama  elaborately  arranged  for  spec- 
tacular effect;  the  subjects  were  usually  mythological 
or  took  the  form  of  allegory  :  the  success  of  the  masque 
was  aided  by  beautiful  costumes  and  ingenious  me- 
chanical effects.  In  this  form  of  composition  Miltonv 
too,  employed  his  art  (see  page  184).  Jonson  was 
the  author  of  two  tragedies,  Sejanus  (1603)  and  Cati- 
line (1611)  ;  these  dramas  are  characterized  by  an 
abundance  of  classical  learning,  but  are  cold  and 
heavy.  His  most  important  comedies  are  Voljione,  or 
the  Fox  (1605),  Epicwne,  or  the  Silent  Woman 
(1609),  and  The  Alchemist  (1610)  ;  of  which  the  last- 
named  is  regarded  as  a  masterpiece.  This  play  is  re- 
markable for  its  very  clever  plot,  and  for  the  technical 
skill  displayed  in  unfolding  the  details  of  the  intrigue  ; 
it  is  also  a  good  example  of  Jonson's  learning,  for  it  is 
fairly  crammed  with  the  lore  of  alchemy,  and  of  roguery 
as  well. 

The  relations  existing  between  Jonson  and  Shake- 
speare are  of  particular  interest.     Although 
and  Jonson  was  indebted  to  Shakespeare,  if  tra- 

Shake-         dition  be  true,  for  his  introduction  to  the  staae, 
speare.  '  »   ' 

he  represented  a  different  school  of  writing  and 
a  different  dramatic  ideal.  Morever,  it  is  stated  that 
lie  was  jealous  of  the  other's  superior  success,  and  that 
the  two  poets  quarreled.  Probably  too  much  has  been 
made  of  this  latter  statement,  although  of  Jonson's 
irascible  temper  and  quickness  to  take  offense  there  is 
no  doubt.  But  Jonson  was  a  classical  scholar,  and  was 
devoted  to  the  models  of  the  ancient  stage  ;  he  there- 


JONSON   AND   SHAKESPEARE  149 

fore  criticised  the  extravagance  and  license  of  dramatists 
like  Marlowe  and  Shakespeare,  whose  methods  he  re- 
garded as  antagonistic  to  the  highest  art.  That  there 
was,  save  in  this  regard,  genuine  and  hearty  sympathy 
between  these  two  gifted  men  need  not  be  doubted,  nor 
that  each  was  appreciative  of  the  other's  peculiar  gifts. 
Thomas  Fuller,  who  was  born  in  1608,  and  was  well 
acquainted  in  his  day  with  some  who  had  been  com- 
rades with  these  noted  characters  and  had  survived 
them,  declares  as  follows  :  — 

"  Many  were  the  wit-combats  betwixt  him  [Shakespeare] 
and  Ben  Jonson  ;  which  two  I  beheld  like  a  Spanish  great 
galleon  and  an  English  man-of-war.  Master  Jonson,  like 
the  former,  was  built  higher  in  learning  ;  solid,  but  slow  in 
his  performances ;  Shakespeare,  with  the  English  man-of- 
war,  lesser  in  bulk,  but  lighter  in  sailing,  could  turn  with  all 
tides,  tack  about,  and  take  advantage  of  all  winds,  by  the 
quickness  of  his  wit  and  invention."  * 

To  the  first  folio  edition  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  Ben 
Jonson  contributed  a  poetical  dedication  of  the  book, 
which  has  furnished  us  with  some  of  our  most  apt  ex- 
pressions of  appreciation  concerning  our  great  poet :  — 

"  Soul  of  the  age  ! 
The  applause  !  delight !  the  wonder  of  oisr  stage  !  " 

"  He  was  not  of  an  age,  hut  for  all  time  !  ' 

' '  Sweet  Swan  of  Avon  !   what  a  sight  it  wrre 
To  see  thee  in  our  waters  yet  appeare, 
And  make  those  flights  upon  the  bankes  of  Thames 
That  so  did  take  Eliza  and  our  James  ! ''' 

In  a  little  volume  of  prose,  to  which  he  gave  the 
fanciful  name  of  Timber  ;  or  Discoveries  Made  upon 
Men  and  Matter,  Jonson  gathered  an  interesting*  col- 
lection of  paragraphs  on  various  topics :  bits  of  wis- 
dom, epigrams,  curious  facts,  criticism,   brief  essays, 

1  Worthies  of  Warwickshire. 


150  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

not  unworthily  compared  to  similar  examples  in  Ba- 
con's works  ;  and  there  is  one  paragraph  of  comment 
on  the  hasty  composition  of  Shakespeare  which  closes 
with  this  tribute  :  — 

"  I  loved  the  man  and  honor  his  memory,  on  this  side 
idolatry,  as  much  as  any.  He  was  indeed  honest,  and  of  an 
open  and  free  nature  •,  had  an  excellent  phantasy,  brave  no- 
tions, and  gentle  expressions." 

Ben  Jonson  was  the  first  officially  appointed  poet- 
laureate,  although  the  title  had  been,  by  way  of  com- 
pliment, conferred  upon  several  earlier  poets.  For 
some  years  he  enjoyed  prosperity,  the  poet-dramatist  of 
the  court,  literary  lion  and  dictator  among  the  lesser 
writers,  with  whom  the  poet  was  extremely  popular. 
Later  he  fell  into  misfortune ;  he  became  involved  in 
debt,  paralysis  attacked  him,  and  in  1637  he  died  in 
poverty.  He  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  and 
through  the  charity  of  a  stranger  it  is  said,  a  work- 
man was  hired  to  cut  the  simple  but  suggestive  epitaph 
which  identifies  his  grave :  "  O  Rare  Ben  Jonson." 

Of  the  dramatists  contemporary  with   Shakespeare 

Beaumont  anc^  ^en  J°nsoni  Francis  Beaumont  (1584- 
and  1616)  and  John  Fletcher  (1579-1025)  are 

famous  for  their  literary  partnership  of  long 
standing.  Beaumont  seems  to  have  been  intimate  with 
Jonson,  and  Dryden  declares  that  the  latter  regularly 
took  his  own  compositions  to  Beaumont  for  criticism. 
To  Beaumont  and  Fletcher  is  ascribed  the  joint  author- 
ship of  more  than  fifty  plays ;  although  it  is  now  cer- 
tain that  the  larger  number  were  the  work  of  Fletcher 
alone  or  in  collaboration  with  other  dramatists.  It  is 
known  that  Fletcher  worked  with  Shakespeare  upon 
the  King  Henry  VIII.  and,  in  all  probability,  upon 
The  Tiro  Noble  Kinsmen^  which  is  sometimes  included, 
as  a  doubtful  play,  with  Shakespeare's  works. 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  151 

George  Chapman  (d.  1634),  Thomas  Dekker,  Thomas 
Heywood,  John  Marston  (1575-1634),  Thomas  Mid- 
dleton  (1570-1627),  John  Webster,  and  Philip  Mas- 
singer  (1583-1638)  were  all  employed  with 

JLi  w  S  5  6  m 

greater  or  less  success  in  contributing  to  the  Drama- 
distinction  of  the  English  stage  in  the  closing  8ts' 
years  of  Elizabeth  and  during  the  reign  of  James. 
These  men  were  contemporaries,  comrades  and  rivals, 
professionally,  with  the  great  leaders  of  their  craft. 
Some  of  them  were  university  men  ;  most  of  them  were 
strong  intellectually  and  in  artistic  power ;  but  the 
over-topping  genius  of  Shakespeare  is  never  so  con- 
spicuous as  when  his  works  are  placed  in  contrast  with 
theirs. 

After  Shakespeare's  time  there  followed  a  percep- 
tible decline  in    the  drama.     Not   only  was  _    „ 

•>  Decline 

there  a  loss  of  power  among  writers  for  the  of  the 
stage,  but  the  growing  spirit  of  the  Puritan  age- 
movement  looked  with  less  and  less  tolerance  upon  the 
increasine:  license  of  the  theatre.  The  more  sober- 
minded  had  never  favored  it,  and  regarded  this  form  of 
amusement  with  hostility.  As  the  drama  decayed,  the 
stage  fell  into  disrepute,  and  at  the  outbreak  of  civil 
war  the  theatres  were  closed  altogether. 

In  order  to  appreciate   the  real  performance  of   Shake- 
speare and  his  influence  upon  the  English  stage,    gugges- 
it  would  be  best  for  the  student  to  read  one  or   tions  for 
more   of   the  pre-Shakespearian  plays  before  be- 
ginning a  study  of  the  dramatist's  own  work.     All  study  of 
the  plays  should  be  chronological.     (The  general  subject  of 
the  chronology  of  the  Shakespearian  dramas  is  discussed  in 
Dowden's  valuable  Shakespeare  Primer.)     One  might  well 
begin  with  a  play  of  the  first  group,  Love's  Labour  's  Lost. 
A  Midsummer  Night 's  Dream  may  very  well  be  studied  in 
close  connection  with  this  comedy,  and  comparisons  made 
between  the  two. 


152  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

I.  Love's  Labour  \s  Lost.  Sidney  Lee,  in  his  Life  of 
Shakespeare,  has  noted  many  facts  of  interest  concerning  the 
names  of  the  characters  introduced.  The  story  of  this  early 
play  is  slight,  and  no  grave  problems  are  involved.  The  sub- 
title, "  a  pleasant  conceited  comedy,"  adequately  describes  it. 
The  situation  and  ensuing  complications  suggest  comparison 
with  the  story  of  The  Princess,  by  Tennyson.  We  should  note 
how  closely  in  this  play  the  dramatist  observes  the  ancient 
rule  of  "  the  unities  "  ;  and  if  there  is  any  doubt  as  to  the 
significance  of  that  rule,  enjoined  by  Aristotle,  it  should  be 
carefully  studied.  Very  shortly  Shakespeare  broke  away 
from  this  rule  entirely,  returning  to  it  in  The  Tempest  alone 
of  all  his  maturer  plays.  A  feature  peculiar  to  this  early 
group  of  dramas  is  the  preponderance  of  rhyme.  If  one 
counts  the  rhymes  in  Love's  Labour  's  Lost,  he  will  find  that 
there  are,  in  the  dialogue  of  the  play,  twice  as  many  rhym- 
ing verses  as  verses  without  rhyme.  As  the  poet  advanced 
in  his  work  of  composition,  he  gradually  discarded  this  form 
of  verse.  An  interesting  comparison  may  be  made  in  this 
respect  with  some  late  play,  noting  the  gain  in  strength  and 
beauty  due  to  the  change.  Attention  should  be  given  to  the 
diction.  The  extravagant  use  of  word-play  is  objectionable. 
Lines  like  these  are  noticeable  :  "  And  then  grace  us  in  the 
disgrace  of  death."  "  Your  oath  is  pass'd  to  pass  away  from 
these."  "  Of  his  Almighty  dreadful  little  might:'  "  Do 
meet,  as  at  a,  fair,  in  her  fair  cheek."  Such  examples  may 
be  noted. 

There  is  some  satire  involved  in  the  humor  of  the  comedy  ; 
the  character  of  Don  Armado,  the  fantastical  Spaniard,  is  in- 
tended to  present  in  some  degree  the  grotesque  style  of  the 
eupbuists  in  the  extravagance  of  his  comparisons,  the  strange 
figures  used  by  him,  the  overwhelming  frequency  of  allitera- 
tion and  antithesis  in  his  language  ;  for  illustration,  turn  to 
Don  Armado's  speech  at  the  end  of  Act  I.,  and  to  the  letter 
read  by  Boyet  in  Act  IV.  scene  i.  A  similar  style  of  diction, 
baidly  less  grotesque,  is  found,  however,  in  several  of  the 
speeches  addressed  by  the  King  and  his  companions.  Indicate 
some  of  the  passages  in  which  Shakespeare  makes  serious  use 


THE 

TRAGEDY 

OF 

HAMLET 

Prince  of  Denmarke. 

BY 

William  Shakespeare. 

Newly  imprinted  and  enlarged  to  almoft  as  much 

againc  as  itwas,accordingto  the  true 

and  perfect  Coppy. 


AT  LONDON, 
Printed  Cot  Tohn  Smetbmcke  andare  to  be  fold  at  his  fiioppe 
in  Saint  Dwtftons  Church  ycard  in  Flcetftreet. 
VndertheDiall.x6*ii. 


154  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

of  euphuistic  language.  In  studying  these  superficial  quali- 
ties of  the  play,  its  many  heauties  of  expression,  the  charm- 
ing pictures  of  landscape  and  country  scenery,  the  quality  of 
the  songs  and  other  lyric  passages  should  not  be  overlooked. 
Perhaps  there  are  reminiscences  here  of  Shakespeare's  youth, 
which  was  not  very  far  behind  him,  when  he  wrote  of 

"  .    .    .    daisies  pied  and  violets  blue 
Aud  lady  smocks  all  silver  white." 

What  opportunity  did  the  poet  have,  as  a  boy,  to  cultivate  a 
taste  for  nature,  and  to  gain  intimate  acquaintance  with 
nature's  ways  ? 

In  spite  of  the  obvious  unreality  of  the  King's  vow  and 
subsequent  developments,  there  is  perceptible  charm  in  the 
unfolding  of  this  simple  plot.  Its  freshness  and  vivacity  are 
very  taking.  The  sentiment  never  grows  serious,  although 
there  are  some  conspicuous  passages  in  the  manner  that  later 
we  call  Shakespearian.  This  we  find  in  the  reply  of  the 
Princess  to  Boyet's  labored  compliment  (II.  i.  13)  :  — 

"  Good  Lord  Boyet,  my  beauty,  though  but  mean, 
Needs  not  the  painted  flourish  of  your  praise," 

and  also  in  the  words  of  Biron,  following  the  announcement 
of  the  death  of  the  King  of  France  (V.  ii.  743)  :  — 

"  Honest  plain  words  best  pierce  the  ear  of  grief." 

This  is  preeminently  a  comedy  of  wit.  As  illustrating 
the  finer  play  of  repartee,  study  the  scene  which  contains 
the  encounter  of  the  Princess  and  her  ladies  with  the  gentle- 
men of  the  King's  court  (V.  ii.  80-266).  Compare  with  the 
spirit  of  this  the  coarser  humor  in  the  scenes  which  intro- 
duce the  low-comedy  characters  of  the  sub-plot. 

Of  the  characters  in  this  play,  only  two,  Biron  (pronounced 
Be-roon')  and  Rosaline,  contain  much  promise  of  richness  and 
power  of  imagination.  It  would  be  interesting  to  examine 
carefully  the  passages  which  make  these  personages  preemi- 
nent, and  to  determine  what  artistic  value  Biron  and  Rosa- 
line possess.  Notice  the  careful  parallelism  followed  in  the 
speeches  of  these  and  the  other  characters  ;  the  pairing-off 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  155 

of  courtiers  and  ladies :  is  this  a  natural  or  an  artificial 
adjustment  of  things  ?  Do  you  find  such  an  orderliness  in 
other  of  the  early  plays,  —  in  the  later  ones,  the  tragedies, 
for  example  ? 

It  will  hardly  be  worth  while  to  spend  much  time  in 
examining  the  technique  of  this  slight  drama.  It  is  put 
together  loosely,  and  its  only  purpose  is  to  supply  a  series  of 
amusing  incidents  that  appeal  to  eye  and  ear.  The  comic 
episodes  introducing  the  Schoolmaster,  the  Curate,  the  Span- 
iard, the  Fool,  and  the  Boy  (all  typical  characters  of  the  older 
stage),  and  their  attempt  to  present  the  interlude  of  the 
Nine  Worthies,  are  very  likely  an  inspiration,  if  not  an  actual 
reminiscence,  of  what  Shakespeare  had  seen,  about  his  home, 
in  the  efforts  of  village  art. 

As  representative  comedies  of  the  second  period,  we  may 
take  the  Merchant  of  Venice  and  As  You  Like  It.  If 
there  be  opportunity  for  further  study,  the  First  Part  of 
King  Henry  IV.  and  Twelfth  Night  should  be  added. 

II.  The  Merchant  of  Venice.  Here  we  find  the 
dramatist  in  much  more  serious  mood.  A  reading  of  the 
play  will  reveal  his  growing  maturity  of  mind  and  his  pos- 
session of  far  greater  power.  As  a  beginning  of  the  study, 
separate  the  two  stories  of  the  pound  of  flesh  and  the  three 
caskets  ;  note  the  distinct  separation  of  locality  and  setting 
in  each.  Now  see  how  the  two  stories  are  bound  together  in 
the  common  plot :  what  are  the  links  connecting  them  ? 
What  is  to  be  said  of  the  elopement  of  Lorenzo  and  Jessica 
as  a  dramatic  incident  in  this  comedy  ? 

The  opening  scene  of  the  drama  is  felt  to  be  significant  in 
suggesting  the  tone  of  the  action  that  follows :  explain  this 
somewhat.  What  do  you  consider  the  dramatic  value  of  the 
fifth  act?  Is  it  superfluous,  or  has  it  some  artistic  use? 
Where  is  the  point  of  climax  in  the  story  of  Bassanio's  for- 
tunes? Where  the  point  of  most  intense  interest  in  the 
misfortunes  of  Antonio  ?  Where  occurs  the  first  suggestion 
of  Antonio's  losses  ?  Point  out  the  successive  confirmations 
up  to  the  moment  of  assurance.  Where  are  we  informed  — 
and  under  what  circumstances  —  that  the  argosies  are  safe  ? 


156     FROM  CHAUCER  TO  SHAKESPEARE 

Is  there  any  way  to  account  for  the  false  rumors  of  their 
loss  ? 

Who  is  the  hero  of  this  drama  ?  Which  character  inter- 
ests you  most  ?  Make  a  special  study  of  "  Old  Shylock." 
What  motives  for  his  persecution  of  Antonio  do  you  find  in 
his  own  words  (I.  iii.  and  III.  i.),  — in  Antonio's  words 
(III.  iii.)  ?  What  are  his  relations  to  the  Christians,  —  to 
his  household,  —  to  his  nation  ?  Do  you  find  any  justifica- 
tion for  the  Jew  in  his  hatred,  —  or  grounds  for  sympathy 
with  him  in  his  defeat  ?  How  do  you  regard  the  conclusion 
of  the  trial-scene,  —  is  it  just  ?  Study  the  personality  of 
Portia.  What  are  the  prominent  traits  in  her  character  ? 
What  do  you  think  of  her  interpretation  of  the  law,  —  of  her 
plea  for  mercy  ?  Is  Portia  maidenly  ?  Does  she  obey  the 
spirit  of  her  father's  will  ?  Was  there  any  reasonableness 
in  such  a  will  ?  Describe  Antonio ;  Bassanio ;  Launcelot 
Gobbo.  Cite  some  descriptive  passages  which  especially 
please  you.  Do  you  find  material  for  quotation  here  ?  Is 
there  any  more  of  realism,  in  this  play  than  in  Love's  La- 
bour 's  Lost  ?  Wherein  do  the  essential  differences  lie  ? 
What  makes  this  play,  so  serious  in  motive,  a  comedy  ? 

III.  As  You  Like  It.  Here  again  we  have  an  inter- 
weaving of  two  stories  in  the  creation  of  a  double  plot,  an 
arrangement  attractive  to  Shakespeare.  Frederick's  jeal- 
ousy and  banishment  of  Rosalind  is  paralleled  in  Oliver's  ill 
treatment  of  Orlando.  The  love  of  Orlando  and  Rosalind 
is  the  motive  which  unites  the  threads  and  gives  unity  to 
the  plot  as  a  whole.  As  in  Love's  Labour  's  Lost,  there  is  a 
comic  sub-plot  in  the  wooing  of  Audrey  by  William  and 
Touchstone,  duplicated  in  the  courtship  of  Phoebe  by  Silvius. 
Study  the  grouping  of  all  these  characters,  and  follow  their 
relations  throughout  the  action.  Compare  the  personalities 
of  Rosalind  and  Portia ;  Orlando  and  Bassanio ;  Touchstone 
and  Launcelot  Gobbo.  The  character  of  Biron  is  sometimes 
taken  as  the  prototype  of  Jaques  ;  Rosaline  is  also  compared 
with  Rosalind:  what  resemblance  do  you  see? 

Compare  the  three  scenes  in  the  first  act  in  As  You  Like 
It  with  the  corresponding  scenes  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice. 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  157 

Study  the  dramatic  structure  of  these  scenes  :  note  those  sec- 
tions which  merely  explain  the  situation  :  the  lines  which 
indicate  the  beginning  and  progress  of  the  action,  —  for 
example,  the  quarrel  between  Orlando  and  Oliver,  and  the 
suggestions  which  lead  to  the  wrestling-match ;  also  the 
points  in  Bassanio's  narrative  that  occasion  Antonio's  re- 
solve. What  similarity  do  you  observe  in  Shakespeare's 
introduction  of  these  two  heroines  ?  Follow  the  details  of 
the  action  which  brings  Rosalind  and  Orlando  together. 
What  resemblance  is  there  between  Rosalind's  fortunes  and 
those  of  Orlando  ?  What  passages  in  the  first  act  of  each 
play  are  devoted  to  characterization  ?  Notice  the  contrast  in 
the  tone  of  these  two  plays  as  suggested  by  these  opening 
acts ;  and  the  couplets  which  complete  the  act  in  both. 

Do  you  see  any  significance  in  the  localization  of  Arden 
and  Belmont  ?  It  is  impossible  to  find  their  counterparts 
on  any  map  ;  each  is  a  place  of  retreat  from  the  confused 
world  of  strife  in  which  these  people  are  first  discovered, 
and  where  their  fortunes  become  complicated  and  intolera- 
ble. In  Belmont  is  arranged  the  plan  by  which  Antonio's 
predicament  is  resolved  ;  Portia's  gardens  are  associated  with 
music,  moonlight,  and  the  peaceful  happiness  of  love.  Ar- 
den, the  home  of  shepherds,  is  an  asylum  for  the  exiles,  a 
rendezvous  for  those  who  are  in  trouble ;  here  their  fortunes 
are  bettered  and  their  wrongs  righted.  Such  retreats  are 
often  found  in  the  Elizabethan  romance,  of  which  Lodge's 
Rosalind  is  a  type.  This  pretty  romance,  from  which 
Shakespeare  took  the  story  of  his  comedy,  should  be  read  in 
connection  with  the  play  ;  it  is  found  entire  in  some  of  the 
editions  of  the  drama,  and  may  be  had  for  ten  cents  in  Cas- 
selVs  National  Library.  Again  take  note  of  such  passages 
as  particularly  impress  with  their  beauty.  Commit  to  mem- 
ory the  speech  of  the  Duke  (II.  i.  1-16)  and  Jaques's 
famous  allegory,  "  All  the  world  's  a  stage  "  (II.  vii.  139). 

IV.  Julius  Caesar.  In  reading  this  play,  the  student 
should,  if  possible,  compare  the  lives  of  Caesar,  Brutus,  and 
Mark  Antony  as  given  by  Plutarch,  using  a  copy  of  North's 
translation,  which  was  the  version  used  by  Shakespeare  as 


158  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

the  source  of  his  material.    He  will  he  surprised  at  the  poet's 
close  adherence  to  the  text  of  Plutarch. 

The  opening  scene  should  he  examined  with  reference  to 
its  indications  of  what  is  to  follow,  as  well  as  of  what  has 
passed.  After  the  play  has  heen  read  and  the  plot  mastered, 
the  reader  should  study  the  dramatist's  treatment  of  "  the 
mightiest  Julius" — as  he  terms  him  elsewhere.1  What 
reason  is  there  why  Caesar's  name  rather  than  that  of  Brutus 
should  form  the  title  of  the  play  ?  Analyze  the  portraiture. 
Wherein  does  hoastfulness  appear,  —  superstition,  —  weak- 
ness, —  strength  ?  Is  there  ground  for  such  a  conception  of 
this  character  in  history  ?  What  significance  do  you  detect 
in  the  appearance  of  Caesar's  ghost  in  Act.  V.,  —  in  the  last 
words  spoken  by  Cassius  and  Brutus  ? 

Now  study  the  characterization  of  Brutus,  comparing  him 
throughout  with  Cassius.  What  expressions  in  the  first  en- 
counter of  the  two  suggest  that  Brutus  is  already  prepared 
to  oppose  Caesar?  Wherein  does  his  humane  spirit  reveal 
itself  ?  Wherein  his  impulsive  temperament  ?  AVhat  argu- 
ment most  appeals  to  Brutus  in  moving  him  to  join  the  con- 
spiracy ?  In  what  respect  is  Cassius  superior  to  Brutus,  — 
in  what  inferior  ?  Note  well  Antony's  tribute  to  the  integrity 
of  Brutus.     Where  was  Brutus's  mistake  ? 

Analyze  the  portraiture  of  Antony.  What  are  the  real 
reasons  for  his  success  ?  Do  you  feel  that  he  is  honest  in  his 
protestations  of  affection  ?  The  subsequent  career  of  this 
youth,  as  depicted  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  should  be  fol- 
lowed in  this  connection. 

The  portrait  of  Portia  is   a  masterpiece.     Less  than  one 
hundred  lines  are  spoken  by  this  character,  yet  it  is  as  dis- 
tinct and  strong  as  any  that  Shakespeare  ever  created.    Por- 
tia, like  Brutus,  is  a  stoic,  yet  note  how  her  wifely  affection . 
and  fears  assert  themselves  in  the  scene  with  Lucius  (II.  iv.). 

None  of  Shakespeare's  other  plays  is  so  filled  with  fine 
declamatory  passages  as  this  ;  their  dignity  and  stateliness 

1  Hamlet,  I.  i.  114.  Compare  other  allusions  to  Julius  Cwsar  in  the 
plavs  :  Ham.  V.  i. ;  A.  Y.  L.  I.  V .  ii.  j  II.  K.  II.  IV.  I.  i.  ;  K.  H.  V. 
V.  ;  K.  Rich.  III.  III.  i.  etc. 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR  STUDY  159 

are  most  impressive.  A  careful  reading  will  fix  them  easily 
in  memory. 

The  Great  Tragedies.  Of  the  principal  tragic  dra- 
mas, two  may  be  selected  for  special  study,  although  all 
must  be  read  by  one  who  wishes  to  know  the  power  of 
Shakespeare.  Here  his  genius  is  absolute.  The  element 
in  tragedy  which  rouses  human  interest  is  not  the  sadness  of 
disaster,  but  the  thrilling  effect  of  the  struggle  which  domi- 
nates the  action ;  the  hero  must  contend.  The  Greeks 
termed  the  hero  of  tragedy  the  protagonist ;  and  hence  Milton 
names  his  dramatic  poem,  modeled  after  the  ancient  drama, 
Samson  Agonistes,  —  the  struggling  Samson.  In  tragedy 
the  «7^agonizing  force  is  stronger  than  the  hero,  and  the 
drama  ends  in  catastrophe  and  defeat.  Now  in  the  noblest 
form  of  tragedy  our  interest  is  centred  not  on  a  mere  phys- 
ical struggle,  but  on  a  mental  conflict.  This  is  the  case  in 
each  of  the  two  plays  chosen :  in  Hamlet  we  have  a  strug- 
gle against  temperament  and  circumstance  ;  in  Macbeth,  a 
conflict  between  the  forces  of  good  and  ill  in  a  human  soul. 
The  one  is  the  tragedy  of  a  scholar ;  the  other  of  a  soldier. 

V.  Hamlet.  The  tragedy  of  Hamlet  is  commonly  re- 
garded as  Shakespeare's  masterpiece.  None  of  his  plays  is 
more  popular  on  the  stage  ;  none  other  contains  so  many  prob- 
lems for  the  critic  and  the  interpreter.  Volumes  have  been 
written  upon  the  character  of  the  Prince,  but  the  mystery  of 
Hamlet  is  the  old  and  sacred  mystery  of  personality  which 
must  ever  baffle  the  most  acute.  Hamlet's  story  begins  with 
the  soliloquy  (I.  ii.)  that  shows  his  deep  dejection  over  his 
mother's  o'er-hasty  marriage.  In  this  frame  of  mind  he 
hears  from  Horatio  the  report  of  the  apparition.  Note  the 
effect  of  Horatio's  story  on  Hamlet :  would  you  think  that 
the  latter  suspects  any  crime  ?  What  expressions  here  and 
in  scene  v.  enforce  this  probability  ?  Notice  carefully  the 
Ghost's  words  to  Hamlet,  and  their  effect.  Especially  signi- 
ficant is  Hamlet's  declaration  (I.  v.  29-31),  which  forms 
the  starting-point  of  the  action,  which  is  ever  the  purpose  of 
Hamlet's  soul,  and  which,  in  the  tragic  irony  of  his  fate,  he 
is  never  to  fulfill.     Notice  the  force  of  lines  85,  86  :  — 


160  FROM    CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

"  Taint  not  thy  mind,  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive 
Against  thy  mother  aught." 

Note  the  perturbed  condition  of  Hamlet's  mind  in  the  rest 
of  the  scene,  and  also  his  hinted  purpose  in  lines  170,  180. 

Act  II.  emphasizes  Hamlet's  dilatoriness.  How  swift  was 
to  be  his  flight  to  revenge ;  yet  nothing  has  been  done, 
although  the  ambassadors  sent  to  Norway  (I.  ii.)  have  made 
the  journey,  performed  their  mission,  and  here  are  present 
to  report  (II.  ii.).  The  "  antic  disposition  "  assumed  by  the 
Prince  is  exhibited  in  the  dialogue  with  Polonius  (lines  170- 
216),  but  is  quickly  laid  aside  in  the  conversation  with  Ro- 
sencrantz  and  Guildenstern  (lines  220-370).  Particularly 
interesting  is  Hamlet's  discourse  with  the  players  (lines 
409-530)  ;  then,  most  important  of  all,  comes  the  soliloquy 
which  closes  the  act.  Hamlet's  indecision  is  the  fatal  weak- 
ness which  develops  all  the  tragedy  of  the  play. 

The  third  act  is  always  a  point  of  intense  interest  in  the 
serious  drama.  Here  is  the  crisis  of  the  action,  the  turning- 
point,  or  the  opportunity  for  one.  In  the  great  third  act  of 
this  tragedy,  there  are  four  scenes  of  vital  importance.  In 
the  first  Hamlet  breaks  with  Ophelia ;  it  is  the  crisis  in  her 
career.  The  apparent  harshness  of  the  Prince  is  for  a  kindly 
purpose  ;  his  counsel,  "  Get  thee  to  a  nunnery,"  is  honest  and 
sound.  There  is  a  sharper  tone  when  Hamlet  has  a  glimpse 
of  Claudius  with  Polonius  spying  at  his  back  ;  this  is  coin- 
cident with  the  question,  "Where's  your  father?"  The 
second  scene  is  the  most  spectacular  one  in  the  drama  ;  the 
climax  in  the  cry  of  the  guilty  king  for  "lights,"  and  his 
evident  discomfiture,  leave  Hamlet  no  possible  pretext  of 
doubt  upon  which  to  base  his  indecision.  In  the  following 
scene,  quiet  in  comparison  with  the  preceding,  we  have, 
nevertheless,  the  important  crisis  of  the  drama.  Now  Ham- 
let has  his  opportunity  to  kill  Claudius,  and  yet  he  hesitates. 
As  to  the  soundness  of  Hamlet's  speculation,  which  disarms 
his  purpose,  the  king's  own  comment  is  sufficiently  clear 
(linos  07,  98)  ;  Claudius  is  a  better  theologian  than  is  the 
young  Wittenberg  student,  on  this  occasion  at  least.  But 
the  guilty  king  is  passing    his  crisis  also,  —  morally  ;  con- 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  161 

science  has  stabbed  him  to  the  point  of  true  repentance,  con- 
fession, and  the  abandonment  of  the  fruits  of  crime,  and  there 
he  halts.  Scene  iv.  is  intensely  pathetic.  Here  Gertrude 
learns  the  truth  regarding  her  own  frailty ;  and  her  con- 
science is  pricked  also,  —  in  vain.  Again  the  Ghost  appears 
to  whet  the  almost  blunted  purpose  of  the  Prince,  and  to 
interpose  between  distracted  mother  and  more  distracted 
son,  —  "  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive  against  thy  mother  aught !  " 

Act  IV.  brings  no  accomplishment  of  Hamlet's  purpose. 
In  the  fourth  scene  his  fault  is  set  before  him  in  a  striking 
manner.  The  reader  now  should  turn  back  to  previous 
scenes  in  which  reference  is  made  to  Norway  and  to  For- 
tinbras :  what  then  appeared  as  slight  and  disconnected 
incidents  now  take  on  significance  in  Hamlet's  remarkable  so- 
liloquy (IV.  iv.  32-66).  Note  the  contrast  between  these 
princes.  Why,  else,  this  audible  tramp  of  foreign  soldiery, 
this  ever-recurring  hint  of  the  vigorous,  combative,  hot- 
blooded  Norwegian?  Laertes  and  Fortinbras,  impulsive, 
passionate,  are  the  natural  foils  to  Hamlet,  and  emphasize 
his  considerate  moderation.  Laertes,  spoiled  by  his  Paris 
training,  yields  to  most  foul  temptation  (his  own  suggestion), 
and  covers  his  name  with  everlasting  disgrace,  himself  a 
victim  of  his  own  contemptible  plot.  Fortinbras,  on  the 
other  hand,  always  manly,  always  prince-like,  —  though 
scarcely  more  than  the  shadow  of  his  presence  falls  across 
the  stage,  —  redeems  the  spirit  of  the  tragedy,  and  at  last, 
by  Hamlet's  voice,  assumes  the  Danish  crown. 

The  last  act  opens  with  a  strange,  grotesquely  comic  scene, 
the  only  low-comedy  in  the  drama,  except  that  furnished  by 
Hamlet's  encounters  with  Polonius.  Yet  its  entire  effect  is 
impressive  :  why  ?  What  can  be  said  for  the  congruities  of 
such  an  interlude  in  such  connection  ?  Note  Hamlet's  char- 
acteristic mood  in  his  meditation  upon  Y^orick's  skull.  What 
significance  in  his  sudden  fierce  quarrel  with  Laertes  in  the 
grave  ?  What  is  his  probable  feeling  for  Ophelia  ?  Notice 
the  foreboding  expressed  by  Hamlet  in  the  second  scene,  — 
his  apparent  fatalism.  Study  the  effective  composition  of 
the  catastrophe ;  enumerate  the  successive  incidents.      What 


162  FROM   CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

appropriateness  is  there  in  the  injunction  laid  upon  Horatio  ? 
Has  Hamlet  obeyed  the  Ghost's  command  3 

This  brief  comment  should  suggest  other  lines  of  analysis 
in  the  interpretation  of  Shakespeare's  Prince.  The  ques- 
tion of  Hamlet's  sanity  may  be  considered,  but  after  all  that 
is  a  problem  subordinate  to  the  dramatic  idea  of  the  play. 
More  profitable  is  it  to  follow  the  real  tragic  line  of  the  drama 
found  in  the  situation  of  a  hero,  responsible,  yet  by  training 
and  temperament  unfitted  to  play  his  part :  — 

"  The  time  is  out  of  joint,  —  O  cursed  spite 
That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right !  "      (I.  v.  189.) 

Special  attention  should  be  directed  to  all  of  Hamlet's 
soliloquies.  In  the  soliloquy  the  dramatist  always  reveals 
the  inmost  thought  of  his  character ;  these  utterances  are 
confidential  and  sincere.  The  famous  passage  beginning 
"  To  be,  or  not  to  be  "  (III.  i.  56)  is  a  case  in  point.  The 
Prince  of  Denmark  is  never  nearer  the  heart  of  his  own 
tragic  history  than  in  lines  83-88.  Here  is  the  key  to  his 
character.  Again  he  touches  it  in  the  soliloquy,  IV.  iv.  40- 
46.  It  should  be  noted  also  that  this  royal  youth  is  not 
only  the  centre  of  all  that  moves  in  the  great  drama  —  he 
is  practically  alone  amid  the  forces  that  are  arrayed  against 
him.  Who  are  the  antagonizing  characters  in  this  play  ? 
Should  not  Ophelia  be  numbered  with  them  ?  On  the  other 
hand,  who  are  with  Hamlet  ?  Marcellus,  Bernardo,  do  not 
count ;  the  players  are  only  the  instrument  in  his  hand.  The 
Ghost  is  not  unfriendly,  but  cannot  be  looked  upon  as  a  cham- 
pion or  a  coadjutor.  It  does  not  come  to  bring  a  father's 
comfort,  but  appears,  a  dread  visitant  of  terror,  to  goad 
Hamlet  to  his  task.  Horatio,  Hamlet's  only  confidant,  is  a 
student  like  himself  —  no  more  than  Hamlet  a  man  of  action. 
The  only  positive  service  that  he  can  render  to  his  friend  is 
to  absent  himself  from  felicity  awhile,  and  in  this  harsh 
world  draw  his  breath  in  pain  to  tell  Lord  Hamlet's  story. 

All  the  characters  in  this  play  call  for  study.  Claudius, 
experienced,  shrewd,  desperate,  under  the  burden  of  his 
guilt :  what  are  the  indications  of  his  attitude  toward  Ham- 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  163 

let  ?     Gertrude,  guiltless  of  murder,  but  weak  and  morally 
degraded  by  her  infatuation  with  her  husband's  slayer.    Polo- 
nius,  a  worldly-wise,  conceited,  meddlesome  old  man  :  whence 
has  he  the  counsel  which  he  administers  with  such  unction  to 
Laertes  ?     What  is  the  real  spirit  of  his  advice  ?     It  is  his 
preference  "  by  indirections,  to  seek  directions  out  "  (II.  i. 
66).     Notice  his  method  toward  his  son  and  daughter.     Is 
it  not  his  genius  for  spying  that  brings  his  death  ?     Laertes 
is  the  type  of  courtier  appropriate  to  Elsinore  ;  contrast  the 
influence  of  Paris  with  that  of  Wittenberg.     What  contrary 
motives  bring  Laertes  and  Horatio  to  the  court  ?  Pursue  the 
contrast  between  Laertes  and  Hamlet  in  the  event  of  a  father's 
death.     Ophelia  is  a  pathetic  rather  than  a  tragic  heroine. 
She  is  foredoomed  to  suffer.     Too  weak  of  will  to  attempt  a 
single  struggle,  she  buries  her  love  in  hopelessness  and  sub- 
mits to  be  made  a  tool.     Yet  in  character  she  is  blameless, 
an  innocent  victim  of  harsh  circumstance.     Grief  completely 
destroys  her  reason  ;  she  is  not  responsible  for  her  death. 
Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern  are  mere  echoes  of  the  court ; 
shallow  characters,  they  might  exchange  their  names  and  no 
one  be  the  wiser.       Willing  tools,  they  are   most   cleverly 
dispatched  by  their    own    frailty  and  by  Prince   Hamlet's 
superior  cunning.     The  Ghost  is  a  most   important  factor 
in  the  play.      It  is  an  intensely   poetical  conception  —  this 
shadowy  protest  of  the  dead  against  the  unhindered  pros- 
perity of  guilt.     Shakespeare's  introduction  of  supernatural 
visitants  is  always  interesting,  but  never  elsewhere  so  im- 
pressive as  here.     In  Richard  III.,  Julius  Ccesar,  Macbeth, 
they  appear,  mere  momentary  apparitions  ;  but  here,  in  royal 
dignity  and  kingly  mien,  old  Hamlet's  perturbed  spirit  walks 
—  not  to  affright  the  murderer,  not  to  awaken  pity,  or  to 
foretell  defeat,  but  to  disabuse  the  ear  of  Denmark  and  chal- 
lenge justice    against  a  usurper  of  the  crown.     An    added 
interest  attaches  to  this  creation  because  Shakespeare  played 
the  part  himself,  and  it  was  reckoned  the  "  top  of  his  per' 
formance." 

VI.    Macbeth.    Like  Hamlet,  this  is  a  romantic  tragedy, 
in  which  the  dramatist  introduces  a  supernatural  element  in 


164  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

the  part  played  by  the  Weird  Sisters,  as  well  as  in  the  appa- 
rition of  Banquo's  ghost.  Notice  the  wonderful  poetry  of 
this  play  :  point  out  passages  which  the  fancy  of  the  poet 
has  made  rich  with  imagery.  Note  the  sweep  and  rush  of 
the  movement,  the  inexorable  rapidity  of  the  action.  How 
does  the  opening  scene  prepare  for  the  story  of  evil  that  fol- 
lows ?     Study  the  action  of  the  drama  in  this  diagram  :  — 


Murder  of 
Banquo. 


Possession  of  Crown.  Arousing  of  Macduff. 

II.  IV. 

Murder  of  Duncan.  Retreat  to  Dunsinane. 

I. 

The  Weird  Sisters. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  crisis  of  the  play  is  in  the  murder 
of  Banquo :  why  should  this  incident,  rather  than  the  mur- 
der of  King  Duncan,  form  the  dramatic  crisis  ?  What  simi- 
larity in  the  two  murders  first  rouses  general  suspicion 
against  Macbeth  ?  What  is  the  full  significance  of  Fleance's 
escape  ?  Now  point  out  how  Macbeth's  successive  acts  of 
tyranny  conduce  to  his  own  downfall.  Especially  study  the 
Macduff  motive  :  how  has  Macbeth  prepared  an  avenger  of 
his  own  wicked  deeds  ?  Make  a  similar  examination  of  his 
intercourse  with  the  Weird  Sisters.  Show  how  ironically  their 
predictions  serve  to  betray  their  victim. 

In  analyzing  the  character  of  Macbeth,  two  problems  are 
to  be  considered:  (1)  his  relation  to  the  Weird  Sisters; 
(2)  his  relation  to  Lady  Macbeth.  Upon  the  solution  of 
these  two  problems  rests  the  question  of  Macbeth's  moral 
responsibility  for  his  crimes.     First,  is  it  the   salutation  of 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  165 

these  strange  creatures  on  the  Masted  heath  that  suggests 
the  murder  of  King  Duncan  ?  Study  the  immediate  effect 
of  their  prediction  on  Macbeth.  Why,  do  you  think,  does 
he  say,  "  Stay,  you  imperfect  speakers,  tell  me  more,"  — 
and  again,  "  Would  they  had  staid  "  ?  What  significance  do 
you  find  in  the  conversations  with  Lady  Macbeth,  scenes 
vi.  and  vii.  ?  It  is  well  to  inquire  how  far  into  the  future 
these  mysterious  beings  really  see,  and  to  what  extent  they 
are  actually  able  to  predict.  The  invocation  of  Lady  Mac- 
beth to  the  "  murthering  ministers  "  who  in  their  "  sightless 
substances  "  wait  on  nature's  mischief  is  apparently  addressed 
to  them.  They  are  by  no  means  witches  in  the  vulgar  appli- 
cation of  that  word ;  rather  does  the  number  and  the  char- 
acter of  these  apparitions  connect  them  in  some  sort  with 
the  Fates.  The  older  meaning  of  the  word  wyrd  was  fate. 
They  may  indicate  the  subtle  intent  of  Macbeth's  half-con- 
scious purpose  ;  their  power  seems  to  be  only  over  those  who 
are  evilly  inclined  ;  they  seem  to  understand  the  thought  of 
their  victim,  to  harp  his  own  imaginings,  and  to  lure  him 
on  in  the  direction  of  his  desires,  encouraging  him  to  attempt 
the  course  he  is  inclined  to  follow.  Compare  Genesis  iv.  7  : 
"  If  thou  doest  not  well,  sin  lieth  at  the  door." 

Secondly,  as  to  the'  other  problem  ;  it  should  be  noted  that 
Lady  Macbeth  is  not  so  much  a  foil  to  her  husband  as  a 
complement ;  she  is  not  used  for  the  purpose  of  contrast  so 
much  as  to  supply  his  defect.  It  is  possible  to  interpret  her 
character  as  that  of  a  woman  selfishly  ambitious  to  be  queen, 
inciting  her  husband  to  a  crime,  and  goading  him  on  to  the 
murder  ;  in  which  case  we  must  consider  her  the  incarna- 
tion of  all  cruelty  and  wickedness,  a  fiend  in  woman's  form. 
We  may,  on  the  other  hand,  interpret  her  action  as  based  on 
her  love  for  Macbeth,  and  find  a  motive  for  her  obvious 
wickedness  in  the  desire  that  he  may  possess  the  utmost  fruit 
of  his  ambition.  Which  interpretation  seems  more  just  ? 
The  former  was  long  held  to  be  correct ;  the  latter  has  more 
advocates  now.  In  studying  her  character,  note  the  signs  of 
weakness  which  develop  immediately  after  the  murder  of  the 
king.     Why  does  not  Macbeth  disclose  to  his  wife  his  plans 


1G6  FROM    CHAUCER   TO   SHAKESPEARE 

for  the  murder  of  Banquo  ?  What  indications  of  tender  feel- 
ing do  you  find  shown  by  Lady  Macbeth  in  her  effort  to 
protect  her  husband  on  the  appearance  of  Banquo's  ghost  ? 

Study  both  these  characters  with  reference  to  their  ex- 
pression before  the  murder  of  Duncan  and  afterward.  What 
remarkable  exchange  of  character  do  you  discover  in  this 
double  development  ?  Particularly  note  the  desperate  force 
displayed  by  Macbeth  as  his  doom  approaches. 

The  character  of  Banquo  is  in  admirable  contrast  to  that 
of  the  Thane.  Point  out  some  of  the  differences  between 
these  two  men.  Do  not  fail  to  note  the  intense  pathos  of  the 
passage  wherein  Macduff  learns  of  his  bereavement  (IV. 
iii.  200-240). 

Read  the  account  of  the  real  Macbeth  as  given  by  Holin- 
shed,  and  included  in  many  of  the  introductions  to  the  play. 
In  what  way  has  Shakespeare  enlarged  his  theme  to  the  point 
of  universality  in  its  application  ?  What,  to  your  mind,  is 
the  moral  purpose  of  this  play  ? 

Note.  So  much  for  the  suggested  lines  of  study  in  the 
plays  recommended.  Nothing  has  been  said  about  textual 
criticism,  investigation  of  sources,  the  helps  and  hindrances 
of  commentators  ;  very  little  concerning  the  philosophy  or 
ethics  involved.  The  purpose  has  been  briefly  to  suggest 
some  direction  of  the  thought  that  may  lead  unconsciously 
to  a  degree  of  appreciation  for  the  spirit  of  these  great 
compositions,  and  a  feeling  for  the  art  of  the  great  drama- 
tist who  wrought  them.  Further  details  of  analysis  in  inter- 
pretation and  technique  may  better  be  left  to  a  more  mature 
and  disciplined  age. 

If  possible,  the  reading  of  the  plays  should  be  continued 
until  all  the  important  comedies  and  tragedies  have  been  in- 
eluded.  A  special  study  should  be  made  of  the  historical 
plays,  which  form  a  group  by  themselves  ;  these  are  of  greater 
value  than  is  commonly  realized.  Taken  together  these  Eng- 
lish "histories"  cover  the  period  of  the  great  civil  wars, 
which  we  call  the  Wars  of  the  Roses.  As  a  series,  far  from 
exultant  in  tone,  they  seem  to  sound  the  refrain,  "  Lest  we 
forget,  lest  we  forget !  "     Their  theme  is  nationality,  and 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  167 

their  warning  against  discord  is  most  impressive.  King 
John,  King  Henry  V.,  and  Richard  III.  are  especially  rec- 
ommended. 

Of  the  hundreds  of  volumes  hearing  upon  Shakespeare  and 
his  works,  these  few  are  mentioned  as  helpful  and  Books  that 
generally  easy  of  access.  Of  editions,  those  de-  may  be  used 
voting  a  single  volume  to  a  play,  with  introduc- 
tion and  notes,  are  most  desirahle.  The  texts  edited  by 
William  J.  Rolfe  (American  Book  Co.)  are  popular;  those 
edited  by  Henry  N.  Hudson  (Ginn)  are  also  standard  ;  the 
most  modern  texts  of  this  character  are  in  the  Arden  Edition 
(Heath),  and  the  arrangement  of  this  edition  is  admirable. 
The  plays  Julius  Ccesar,  As  You  Like  It,  Merchant  of 
Venice,  Hamlet,  Macbeth,  are  included  in  the  Riverside 
Literature  Series  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company). 
These  are  carefully  edited  and  inexpensive.  The  authori- 
tative text  of  Shakespeare's  plays  is  that  of  the  Cambridge 
Shakespeare  (9  vols.),  edited  by  William  Aldis  Wright. 
The  Henry  Irving  Edition  (Scribner)  will  be  found  a  con- 
venience in  "  cutting  "  plays  for  school  presentation,  portions 
unnecessary  to  the  action  being  indicated.  The  Variorum 
Edition  (Lippincott),  by  H.  H.  Furness  (twelve  plays  now 
published),  is  a  monument  to  American  scholarship  in  this 
field.  All  material  of  importance  has  here  been  collected, 
and  all  the  variations  of  text  are  noted. 

Abbott's  Shakespearian  Ch'ammar  (Macmillan),  Schmidt's 
Shakespeare  Lexicon,  and  Mrs.  C.  O  Clarke's  Concordance 
to  Shakespeare  are  standard  books  of  reference. 

The  Life  of  William  Shakespeare,  by  Sidney  Lee  (Mac- 
millan, 1899),  is  the  best  biography  of  the  dramatist.  The 
Outlines  for  a  Life  of  Shakespeare,  by  J.  O.  Halli  well-Phi  1- 
lipps,  is  valuable  for  reference  ;  it  contains  a  mass  of  informa- 
tion, carefully  gleaned,  connected  directly  or  indirectly  with 
its  subject.  Biography  and  criticism  are  mingled  in  many 
books.  Among  the  most  useful  are  Hudson's  Life,  Art,  and 
Characters  of  Shakespeare  (Ginn),  Shakespeare,  His  Mind 
and  Art,  by  Edward  Dowden  (Harper's),  and  a  most  service- 
able  Shakespeare  Primer,  by  the  same  author.     Gervinus 


1G8  FROM   CHAUCER  TO   SHAKESPEARE 

and  Ulrici  are  the  most  important  German  commentators  on 

Shakespeare,  and  their  criticism  is  often  valuable.  .  Five 
Lectures  on  Shakespeare,  by  B.  ten  Brink  (Holt),  contains 
much  that  is  suggestive.  Of  the  French  critics,  Taine  and 
Victor  Hugo  may  he  referred  to.  G.  Brandes,  the  Danish 
scholar,  has  produced  A  Critical  Study  of  the  poet.  Mrs. 
Jameson's  Characteristics  of  Women  is  excellent  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  Shakespeare's  heroines.  For  the  technical 
study  of  the  dramas,  R.  G.  Moulton's  Shakespeare  as  a  Dra- 
matic Artist  (Clarendon  Press)  is  very  helpful.  In  this  field, 
Freytag's  Technique  of  the  Drama,  and  the  compact  volume 
on  The  Drama  by  Elizabeth  Woodbridge  (Allyn  &  Bacon), 
are  also  excellent. 

Ilolfe's  Shakespeare,  the  Boy  (American  Book  Co.)  is  an 
interesting  sketch  of  the  manners  and  condition  of  the  times. 

William  Shakespeare,  Poet,  Dramatist,  and  Maw,  by  H. 
W.  Mabie  (Macmillan,  1900),  contains  beautiful  and  valu- 
able illustrations,  which  throw  considerable  light  upon  the 
age  and  its  ways.  Read  Great  Englishmen  of  the  XVI 
Century,  by  Sidney  Lee. 


ENGLISH 


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CHAPTER  IV 
THE   SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY 

FROM    BACON    TO    DRYDEN 

I.  The  Last  of  the  Elizabethans  :  Francis  Bacon. 
II.  The  Puritan  Movement:  John  Milton. 

III.  Seventeenth  Century  Lyrics. 

IV.  The  Restoration  :  John  Bunyan,  John  Dryden. 

I.    THE    LAST    OF    THE    ELIZABETHANS  :    BACON. 

It  has,  perhaps,  been  noted  that  the  term  Eliza- 
bethan, as  used  to  designate  an  epoch  in  the  history  of 
our  literature,  is  allowed  to  include  much  more  than  the 
reign  of  that  remarkable  queen.  It  was  in  the  thir- 
teenth year  of  King  James  that  Shakespeare  died,  and 
Jonson  lived  until  the  twelfth  of  Charles  I.  Lesser 
contemporary  dramatists,  poets,  and  prose  writers  — 
many  of  whom  cannot  be  mentioned  in  this  work  —  are 
still  described  as  Elizabethans.  Even  Milton  is  some- 
times included  in  the  group,  although  removed  by  more 
than  a  generation  from  the  period  in  which  most  of 
these  men  flourished :  but  the  likeness  in  tone,  the  qual- 
ity of  the  verse,  and  the  sweep  of  a  great  imagination 
—  these  characteristics  are  the  distinctive  marks  of  an 
Elizabethan  writer ;  not  the  precise  limits  of  a  definite 
area  of  time. 

Next  to  the  dramas  of  Shakespeare,  the  prose  works 
Francis  of  Francis  Bacon  are  regarded  as  contributing 
^g°n>  most  to  the  glory  of  Knglish  literature  in  the 

1626.  age  of  Elizabeth  and  James.     Bacon  repre- 

sents the  intellectual  type  of  that  age  ;  dispassionate  in 


EARLY   LIFE  171 

judgment,  coldly  impartial  even  in  his  friendships,  he 
practically  applied  his  talents  to  gathering  up  all  the 
fruits  of  scholarship,  and  in  a  tone  itself  resonant  of 
his  time,  declared  in  a  letter  to  Lord  Burghley  that  he 
had  taken  all  knowledge  to  be  his  province. 

This  son  of  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon,  Lord  Keeper  of  the 
Great  Seal  of  England,  was  born  at  York  Early 
House  in  the  Strand,  London,  January  22,  Life- 
1561.  His  mother  was  a  zealous  Calvinist,  strict  and 
stern.  The  boy  was  precocious,  and  bore  himself  with 
such  an  air  of  gravity  that  Elizabeth,  visiting  his  father, 
called  him  her  little  Lord  Keeper.  At  twelve  years 
of  age  Francis  Bacon  entered  Trinity  College,  at  Cam- 
bridge, remaining  at  the  University  till  the  end  of  1575. 
In  the  year  following  he  began  to  study  law  at  Gray's 
Inn.  Admitted  to  the  bar  in  1582,  he  entered  Parlia- 
ment in  1584,  representing  the  district  of  Melcombe, 
later  sitting  for  Middlesex.  During  this  period  of  his 
life  Bacon  was  following  the  unpleasant  and  rarely 
profitable  career  of  a  suitor  for  royal  patronage.  His 
progress  was  slow.  The  famous  Burghley,  Elizabeth's 
prime  minister,  was  his  uncle  ;  but  from  his  hand  the 
young  solicitor  received  no  favor.  Robert  Devereux, 
Earl  of  Essex,  the  generous  patron  of  Edmund  Spen- 
ser, one  of  the  most  admired  and  also  one  of  the  most 
irresponsible  of  courtiers,  was  now  the  special  favorite 
of  the  queen :  to  him  Bacon  turned  for  assistance. 
With  the  aid  of  Essex,  he  tried  to  secure  an  appoint- 
ment to  the  office  of  Solicitor-General  in  1593,  and 
was  disappointed  ;  but  the  liberality  of  his  patron  was 
shown  in  a  gift  of  the  beautiful  estate  of  Twickenham 
Park,  whither  Bacon  retired  for  a  while  to  rest  and 
study.  In  1597  appeared  the  first  edition  of  the  Es- 
says, ten  in  number. 

The  relations  between  Bacon  and  Essex  furnish  one 


172        FROM  BACON  TO  DRY  DEN 

of  the  problems  in  an  analysis  of  Bacon's  character, 
The  Earl  while  the  results  which  developed  out  of 
of  Essex.  those  relations  have  much  to  do  with  the 
shadow  which  rests  on  this  great  author's  fame.  The 
Earl  was  six  years  younger  than  the  man  whom  he  had 
befriended,  impulsive  and  headstrong  as  he  was  bril- 
liant. In  all  honesty  Francis  Bacon  seems  to  have  done 
his  best  to  tone  down  and  to  rectify  the  careless  temper 
of  his  patron,  and  in  vain.  Essex,  in  spite  of  Eliza- 
beth's indulgent  kindness,  at  last  became  so  involved 
in  his  folly  that  he  fell  liable  to  charges  of  treason, 
and  in  1601  was  brought  to  trial.  In  the  process  of 
the  case  Bacon  appeared  — unwillingly,  as  he  declared 
-  and  as  Queen's  Counsel  presented  the  argument 
against  the  Earl  with  such  precision  that  only  one 
event  became  possible :  Essex  was  beheaded.  Bacon 
accepted  X1200  from  the  fines  imposed  on  Essex's 
estate,  and  justified  his  conduct  in  the  affair  by  a 
published  defense  in  which  he  asserts  that  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  State  is  superior  to  the  ties  of  friendship. 
In  1607  Bacon's  ability  finally  received  suitable  re- 
under  cognition  ;    he   was    made    Solicitor-General. 

James i.  \u  1613  ne  became  Attorney-General;  four 
years  later  he  was  appointed  Lord  Keeper  of  the  Seal, 
and  in  1618  rose  to  his  highest  office  as  Chancellor  of 
England,  lie  received  the  title  of  Baron  Verulam, 
and  afterward  was  made  Viscount  of  St.  Albans.  For 
three  years  Francis  Bacon  enjoyed  all  the  privileges 
and  honors  of  his  high  position.  His  manner  of  liv- 
ing was  that  of  a  prince  ;  his  magnificence  became 
proverbial.  At  the  same  time  his  devotion  to  study 
had  never  been  forgotten  ;  his  philosophical  work,  the 
Novnm  Organurn,  or  The  New  Method^  appeared  in 
1620,  and  Bacon  was  recognized  as  the  foremost  scholar 
of  his  time.     At  the  beginning  of  1621  he  was  at  the 


BACON'S   FALL  173 

summit  of  his  prosperity,  and  then  came  one  of  the 
most  notable  reverses  of  fortune  which  ever  overtook  a 
man  of  fame. 

The  career  of  the  Chancellor  had  been  a  brilliant 
one.  A  long  accumulation  of  untried  suits  had  been 
disposed  of,  and  there  seem  to  have  been  no  Bacon's 
complaints  of  injustice  against  the  court.  But  Fal1- 
Bacon  had  powerful  enemies  nevertheless,  and  at  their 
instigation  charges  were  sent  to  the  Lords,  by  the 
House  of  Commons,  affirming  that  the  Chancellor  was 
taking  bribes.  This  was  in  March.  Committees  were 
appointed  to  investigate.  Witnesses  declared  that 
bribes  had  been  accepted,  specifying  sums  of  £300, 
£400,  and  £1000.  Bacon  fell  ill ;  he  offered  no  de- 
fense. "  My  Lords,"  he  said  to  those  who  had  been 
sent  to  ask  if  his  written  confession  was  to  stand,  "  it 
is  my  act,  my  hand,  my  heart.  I  beseech  your  Lord- 
ships be  merciful  to  a  broken  reed."  Bacon's  punish- 
ment was  announced  in  April.  It  was  ordered  that 
he  be  fined  £40,000,  be  imprisoned  during  the  sov- 
ereign's pleasure,  and  be  banished  forever  from  both 
Parliament  and  court.  The  fine  was  remitted,  and 
Bacon  was  released  from  the  Tower  in  June.  He  was 
fully  pardoned  by  the  king  in  September,  but  never 
participated  again  in  public  affairs. 

The  disgrace  of  Lord  Bacon  was  the  fruit  rather  of 
a  bad  system  than  of  deliberate  crime.  The  bribes 
were  always  referred  to  as  "  presents,"  and  it  had  been 
long  the  custom  for  high  officials  to  accept  gifts  from 
those  who  had  causes  before  them.  It  has  never  been 
shown  that  Bacon's  decisions  were  influenced  by  these 
means.  The  pathetic  side  of  the  affair  is  most  impres- 
sive. "  All  rising  to  great  place  is  by  a  winding  stair," 
said  Francis  Bacon,  the  philosopher,  in  his  essay  Of 
Great  Place  ;  "  the  standing  is  slippery  and  the  re- 


174  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

gress  is  either  a  downfall  or,  at  least,  an  eclipse,  which 
is  a  melancholy  thing."  And  when  writing  Of  Wis- 
dom for  a  Mans  Self,  he  had  said :  "  They  [sui 
amantes]  become  in  the  end  themselves  sacrifices  to 
the  inconstancy  of  fortune,  whose  wings  they  thought 
by  their  self- wisdom  to  have  pinioned."  In  his  fall 
Bacon  remained  preeminently  the  philosopher.  He 
appears  to  have  had  no  thought  of  evil  in  the  accept- 
ance of  the  presents  ;  yet  when  the  charges  had  been 
formulated,  he  accepted  their  conclusions  without  a 
protest.  Very  significant  of  the  temper  of  the  man  is 
his  remarkable  declaration  :  "  I  was  the  justest  judge 
that  was  in  England  these  fifty  years ;  but  it  was  the 
justest  censure  in  Parliament  that  was  these  two  hun- 
dred years." 

The  rest  of  Bacon's  life  passed  in  retirement  and  study 
with  his  family  at  Gorhambury,  near  St.  Al- 
ciosing  bans.  He  enlarged  the  number  of  his  Essays, 
compiled  a  History  of  King  Henry  VII., 
wrote  a  philosophical  romance  somewhat  on  the  lines  of 
Utopia,  entitled  TJic  Nero  Atlantis,  and  further  elabo- 
rated his  system  of  philosophic  study.  He  finally  came 
to  his  death  as  a  result  of  his  devotion  to  science. 
Desiring  to  test  the  usefulness  of  snow  as  a  preserva- 
tive of  flesh,  he  caught  a  severe  cold  in  the  process  of 
the  experiment,  a  fever  followed,  and  on  April  9, 1626, 
Francis  Bacon  died.     He  was  buried  at  St.  Albans. 

Bacon's  fame  as  a  scholar  is  associated  with  his  advo- 
Thein-         cacy  of    the    inductive   method   in  scientific 

pliSll  Btudy-  The  system  of  Aristotle,  called  the 
phy.  deductive  system,  which  by  speculation  enun- 

ciated certain  principles,  in  accordance  with  which  cer- 
tain facts  were  supposed  to  harmonize,  had  been  the 
common  method  of  the  schoolmen.  To  this  method  of 
study  Bacon  was  opposed,  and  had  left  the  University 


NOVUM   ORGANUM  175 

with  some  contempt  for  the  older  system  of  thought. 
In  his  philosophical  work  he  taught  the  necessity  of 
beginning  with  facts,  experimenting  until  the  scholar 
should  be  certain  of  his  data,  and  then  proceeding  to 
reason  out  the  principles  and  ideas  which  they  em- 
bodied. Bacon  was  by  no  means  an  inventor  of  the 
inductive  system,  but  through  his  insistence  upon  this 
method  of  study  he  did  contribute  greatly  to  all  sub- 
sequent advance  in  science.  He  called  men  to  study 
nature  directly,  and  demonstrated  the  value  of  experi- 
ment. In  the  application  of  his  own  theories  he 
achieved  little  of  importance.  Although  he  described 
heat  as  a  mode  of  motion,  and  was  familiar  with  some 
of  the  principles  of  light  transmission,  he  seems  not  to 
have  been  acquainted  with  Harvey's  discovery  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  and  he  rejected  the  theories 
of  Copernicus. 

Upon  the  Novum  Organum  Bacon  concentrated  all 
his  thought.  The  work  was  written  in  Latin,  N0Vum 
because  that  was  the  language  of  scholars  —  Organum. 
"  the  universal  language,"  as  it  was  called  :  and  Bacon 
shared  in  the  opinion  of  his  age  that  anything  to  en- 
dure must  needs  be  put  in  the  Latin  tongue.  In  1605 
he  had  written  an  essay  upon  The  Advancement  of 
Learning ;  this  was  afterward  elaborated  in  Latin 
under  the  title  De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,  and  serves 
as  the  general  introduction  to  Bacon's  great  treatise 
which  was  to  be  called  the  Instauratio  Magna  Scien- 
tiarum, of  which  the  Novum  Organum  forms  the  sec- 
ond and  most  valuable  part.  The  conclusion  of  this 
work,  in  which  the  author  planned  to  formulate  his 
philosophy,  was  never  reached. 

Bacon's  Essays   should    be    studied    by  every  intelligent 
reader.     The  form  and  style  are  unique  ;  but  these  qualities 


17G  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

are  subordinate  to  the  pungent  truth  and  gathered  store 
_  of  wisdom  that  they  contain.    The  term  essay  was 

tions  for  borrowed,  probably,  from  Montaigne,  who  in 
study.  158()  published   his    Essais.      In    his  De    Aug- 

mentis  Scientiarum  Macon  speaks  thus:  "I  would  have 
all  topics  which  there  is  frequent  occasion  to  handle  .  .  . 
studied  and  prepared  beforehand ;  and  not  only  so,  but 
the  case  exaggerated  both  ways  with  the  utmost  force  of 
the  wit,  and  urged  unfairly  as  it  were  and  quite  beyond 
the  truth.  And  the  best  way  of  making  such  a  collection, 
with  a  view  to  use  as  well  as  to  brevity,  would  be  to  con- 
trast these  commonplaces  into  certain  acute  and  concise 
sentences  ;  to  be  as  skeins,  or  bottoms,  of  thread  which  may 
be  unwinded  at  large  when  they  are  wanted.  ...  A  few 
instances  of  the  thing,  having  a  great  many  by  me,  I  think 
fit  to  propound  by  way  of  example.  I  call  them  Antitheses 
of  Things."  The  first  edition  of  the  Essays  appeared  in 
1597  ;  there  were  ten  of  them.  In  the  dedication  to  bis 
brother  Bacon  calls  them  "the  new  half -pence,  which 
though  the  silver  were  good,  the  pieces  were  small."  A 
second  edition  appeared  in  1612  and  the  number  had  been 
increased  to  forty.  The  final  edition,  published  in  1625, 
included  fifty-eight.  In  his  dedication  to  Buckingham  the 
author  expresses  his  hope  that  "  the  Latin  volume  of  them 
(being  in  the  universal  language)  may  last  as  long  as  books 
last." 

For  special  study  let  the  student  take  the  twelve  essays 
upon  Truth,  Revenge,  Adversity,  En  vy,  Love,  Great  Place, 
Travel,  Wisdom  for  a  Man's  Self,  Friendship,  Discourse. 
Gardens,  Studies.  See  if  any  regular  plan  of  arrangement 
can  be  found  ;  note  the  method  of  introduction,  then  consider 
the  "  unwinding."  Outline  some  of  these  essays  according 
to  the  topics  discussed.  What  is  the  form  of  conclusion  ? 
Notice  the  vocabulary  used  :  are  there  many  obsolete  terms. 
scientific  terms,  foreign  terms  ?  Describe  the  sentences : 
are  they  sbort  rather  than  long  ?  Count  the  words  in  the 
briefest  sentences,  those  in  the  longest ;  compare  the  aver- 
age sentence  with  that  of  some  earlier  writer.     How  does 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  177 

Bacon  construct  his  sentences  ?  are  they  loose  or  periodic  ? 
are  there  many  balanced  sentences  ?  How  are  the  para- 
graphs made  up  ?  What  figures  of  speech  appear  most 
frequently  ?  Examine  the  illustrations.  Do  you  find  the 
expression  clear  ?  Describe  in  your  own  words  the  quality 
of  Bacon's  style. 

What  can  you  say  of  the  thought  ?  Wherein  do  you  find 
reflections  that  bear  on  the  author's  own  experience  ?  Study 
particularly  such  brief  passages  as  these  :  — 

"  Virtue  is  like  precious  odors,  most  fragrant  when  they 
are  incensed  or  crushed :  for  prosperity  doth  best  discover 
vice,  but  adversity  doth  best  discover  virtue."  —  Adversity. 

"  A  crowd  is  not  company,  and  faces  are  but  a  gallery  of 
pictures,  and  talk  but  a  tinkling  cymbal,  where  there  is  no 
love."  —  Friendship. 

"  A  man  that  hath  no  virtue  in  himself  ever  envieth  vir' 
tue  in  others."  —  Envy. 

"  Certainly  men  in  great  fortunes  are  strangers  to  them- 
selves." —  Great  Place. 

"  It  is  a  poor  centre  of  a  man's  actions,  —  himself."  — 
Wisdom  for  a  Marts  Self. 

Consider  passages  from  Bacon's  remarks  concerning  his 
own  purposes  and  ideals,  like  the  following  (translated  by 
Spedding  from  the  Latin  proem  to  a  treatise  on  The  Inter- 
pretation of  Nature)  :  — 

"  Believing  that  I  was  born  for  the  service  of  mankind, 
and  regarding  the  care  of  the  Commonwealth  as  a  kind  of 
common  property  which,  like  the  air  and  water,  belongs  to 
everybody,  I  set  myself  to  consider  in  what  way  mankind 
might  be  best  served,  and  what  service  I  was  myself  best 
fitted  to  perform." 

In  the  light  of  your  reading  how  would  you  interpret  the 
character  of  Francis  Bacon  ?  What  seems  to  have  been  his 
estimate  of  human  nature,  —  his  integrity,  —  his  wisdom  ? 

The  authority  upon  Bacon's  life  and  the  editor  of  his 
works  is  James  Spedding  ;  the  complete  edition  of  Bacon's 
Works,  edited  by  Spedding,  Ellis,  and  Heath,  is  published 
by  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company ;  also  a  popular  edition 


178        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

in  two  volumes,  based  upon  the  former.  The  biography  of 
Bacon  by  R.  W.  Church,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series, 
is  brief  and  serviceable.  Macaulay's  Essay  on  Bacon  is  a 
classic,  but  not  a  satisfactory  study  of  its  subject.  Minto's 
Manual  of  English  Prose  (Ginn)  contains  much  helpful 
material  upon  Bacon's  composition. 

Fairly  reflecting  the  spirit  of  the  Elizabethan  age 
Minor  Prose  are  the  prose  works  of  Robert  Burton  (1577- 
wnters.  1640)  and  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne  (1605- 
82),  although  the  lives  of  these  two  men  extend  ob- 
viously beyond  the  natural  limits  of  the  age.  Burton's 
curious  volume  —  a  classic  in  its  kind  —  entitled  The 
Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  was  inspired,  doubtless,  by 
the  works  of  Francis  Bacon.  It  is  a  singular  collection 
of  the  lore  of  melancholy :  discursive,  amusing,  quasi- 
scientific  in  character,  learned  and  gossipy  by  turns. 
It  appeared  in  1621.  Of  more  dignified  tone  and 
richer  in  its  style  is  the  Religio  Medici,  or  The  Reli- 
gion of  a  Physician,  by  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  pub- 
lished in  1643.  The  author,  a  graduate  of  Oxford, 
who  had  traveled  widely  and  had  taken  his  degree  in 
medicine  at  Leyden,  was  a  man  of  distinguished  learn- 
ing and  rare  wisdom.  His  admirable  book  he  intended 
for  his  own  "  private  exercise  ;  "  "  the  intention  was  not 
publick."  It  is  really  a  confession  of  faith,  and  re- 
veals a  mind  fond  of  the  mystical  side  of  the  spiritual 
life,  tolerant  of  others'  views  ;  the  style  of  the  work  is 
stately  and  of  great  beauty.  Of  Browne's  later  essays 
that  upon  Urn  Burial,  or  a  Discourse  of  the  Sejjul- 
chral  Urns  lately  Found  in  Norfolk  (1658)  is  best 
known.  It  is  full  of  curious  learning,  set  forth  in  prose 
of  elaborate  and  majestic  eloquence.  Both  works  be- 
long among  our  prose  classics. 


RISE  OF  PURITANISM  179 

II.     THE    PURITAN    MOVEMENT  :    MILTON. 

When  Shakespeare  died  in  April,  1616,  John  Mil- 
ton was  a  boy  seven  and  a  half  years  old.  By  chance 
his  parents  lived  in  a  house  on  Bread  Street,  the  thor- 
oughfare oil  which  stood  the  Mermaid  Tavern,  head- 
quarters  for  the  group  of  dramatists  and  poets  of  whom 
Shakespeare  and  Ben  Jonson  were  illustrious  members. 
Tradition  has  it  that  Shakespeare  was  present  with  his 
friends  at  a  merrymaking  in  this  historic  tavern  as  late 
as  1614 ;  and  fancy  has  pictured  a  possible  contact  of 
these  two  spirits,  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  —  one  near 
the  close  of  his  career ;  the  other,  as  yet  unfledged,  but 
destined  to  occupy  a  place  in  English  letters  second 
only  to  that  held  by  his  great  predecessor.  However, 
this  is  only  fancy,  and  while  the  lives  of  Shakespeare 
and  Milton  thus  overlap,  the  age  of  Milton's  maturity 
was  as  separate  and  distinct  from  that  of  the  drama- 
tists as  though  a  century  lay  between.  In  the  boyhood 
of  Milton  the  later  Elizabethans  were  still  alive ;  but 
his  age  was  the  age  of  Charles  I.,  of  Cromwell,  and  of 
Charles  II.  The  climax  of  his  generation  was  the 
development  of  Puritan  England ;  its  decadence  was 
the  Restoration. 

"No  greater  moral  change  ever  passed  over  a  na- 
tion," says  Green,  "  than  passed  over  Eng-  Rise  0I 
land  during  the  years  which  parted  the  mid-  Puritanism, 
die  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  from  the  meeting  of  the 
Long  Parliament  (1583-1640).  England  became  the 
people  of  a  book,  and  that  book  was  the  Bible."  x  For 
the  mass  of  the  people  there  was  no  other  literature, 
and  when  Bibles  were  ordered  to  be  set  up  in  churches, 
and  public  readers  were  employed,  the  people  flocked 
to  listen.  The  effect  of  this  new  familiarity  with  the 
Scriptures  was  speedily  seen,  not  only  in  the  language 

1  Short  History  of  the  English  People,  ch.  viii.  §  1. 


180        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

of  the  nation,  but  in  its  character  as  well.  Theology 
became  the  passion  of  the  thoughtful,  and  the  pro- 
found problems  of  religion  occupied  the  minds  both  of 
scholars  and  common  men.  In  this  atmosphere  the 
Puritan  was  born.  He  might  be  a  gentleman  by  birth 
and  breeding ;  on  the  other  hand,  he  might  be  of  the 
laboring  class,  uncultured  and  uncouth.  In  either  case 
he  was  distinguished  by  his  sobriety  and  strictness  of 
life,  his  gravity  of  demeanor,  his  self-control,  his  demo- 
cratic spirit,  his  opposition  to  all  that  smacked  of 
license,  of  extravagance,  of  immorality,  and  by  his 
recognition  of  the  brotherhood  of  faith  and  practice. 
The  strength  of  the  Puritan  movement  found  itself  in 
the  middle  and  professional  classes.  John  Milton  ex- 
hibited the  characteristics  of  Puritanism  in  its  highest 
and  most  attractive  type. 

The  Puritan  movement  was  not  merely  a  develop- 
ment in  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  life  of 

Politics.  ,  .  .  , .    .       ,  ,     ,. 

the  nation  ;  it  was  a  political  evolution  as 
well.  The  accession  of  the  Stuarts  was  accompanied 
by  an  unhappy  emphasis  on  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
right  of  kingship  and  an  unpleasant  stress  on  the 
authority  of  the  state  church  ;  conformity  was  enjoined 
upon  all.  Yet  the  Nonconformists,  the  Independents, 
multiplied  in  spite  of  legal  enactment  and  ecclesiastical 
tyranny.  Incidental  to  these  disturbances  was  the  rise 
of  a  band  of  Separatists  in  Lincolnshire,  whose  teach- 
ings and  polity  were  at  variance  with  those  of  the 
Puritans,  although  in  spirit  and  aim  they  were  at  one 
with  the  latter.  For  security  and  freedom  these  people 
fled  to  Holland,  and  in  1620  once  more  embarked  to 
establish  a  permanent  home  in  the  new  world.  They 
were  the  Pilgrims,  who  landed  from  the  Mayflower  at 
Plymouth  Rock  when  John  Milton  was  a  lad  of 
twelve. 


THE   COMMONWEALTH  181 

Following  the  dissolution  of  Parliament  by  Charles  I. 
in  1629  there  was  no  meeting  of  either  The 
house  for  eleven  years.  The  king  governed  Covenant- 
single-handed,  and  all  abuses  increased.  In  Scotland 
there  was  great  excitement.  At  Edinburgh,  in  1638, 
the  old  Covenant,  which  had  been  drawn  in  the  time 
of  Mary,  was  again  brought  forth,  and  in  the  church- 
yard of  Grey  Friars  was  signed  amid  intense  enthu- 
siasm by  those  who  swore 

"  by  the  great  name  of  the  Lord  our  God,  to  continue  in  the 
profession  and  obedience  of  the  said  religion,  and  that  we 
shall  defend  the  same,  and  resist  all  their  contrary  errors 
and  corruptions,  according  to  our  own  vocation  and  the 
utmost  of  that  power  which  God  has  put  into  our  hands  all 
the  days  of  our  life."  1 

Hence  came  the  name  of  the  Covenanters.  In  1643 
this  oath  was  subscribed  to  by  the  Commons. 

In  1642  civil  war  began.     Among  the  leaders  of  the 

Parliamentary    forces    Oliver  Cromwell   be- 

-i  •         ,      -nr,,.  Civil  War. 

came  more  and  more  prominent.     Within  two 

years  the  Royalists  were  beaten,  and  Charles  was  nom- 
inally a  prisoner  of  his  own  Parliament.  Events  were 
pushed  to  a  crisis,  and  at  the  end  of  1648  a  remnant 
of  the  Commons,  the  famous  Rump  Parliament,  con- 
demned Charles  to  death  "as  a  tyrant,  traitor,  mur- 
derer, and  enemy  to  his  country."  In  January,  1649, 
he  was  beheaded  at  Whitehall. 

From  1649  to  1653  England  was  in  name  a  repub- 
lic. In  1653  Oliver  Cromwell  became  the  TheCom. 
Protector ;  and  upon  his  death  five  years  monweaith. 
afterward,  the  title  descended  to  his  son  Richard,  who 
maintained  it  weakly  for  two  years.  The  fall  of  Puri- 
tanism in  England  was  indicated  by  the  return  of  the 
Stuarts  in  1660,  the  accession  of  Charles  II.,  and  the 

1  Green,  ch.  viii.  §  5- 


182        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

beginning  of  the  period  of  the  Restoration.  During 
this  turbulent  epoch  of  civil  commotion  John  Milton 
played  no  inconspicuous  part.  He  was  officially  em- 
ployed in  the  government  of  the  Commonwealth.  In 
his  writings  we  find  the  clear  expression  of  the  Puritan 
spirit. 

The  English  poet  who,  by  common  consent,  holds  a 

rank  second  only  to  that  of  Shakespeare,  was 
Milton,         born  in  London  December  9,  1608.    Milton's 

grandfather  was  a  Catholic.  His  father,  also 
John  Milton,  was  a  Protestant,  and  had  been  disin- 
herited for  his  faith.  By  profession  the  poet's  father 
was  a  scrivener ;  that  is,  he  was  an  attorney  and  also  a 
stationer.  He  was  a  man  of  property  and  of  culture, 
appreciative  of  the  value  of  learning  and  especially 
devoted  to  music.  He  composed  several  tunes,  of 
which  York  and  Norwich  are  still  standard  in  the 
hymn  books  of  to-day.  He  designed  that  his  son  should 
enter  the  Church,  and  planned  with  great  care  and  lib- 
erality for  his  education. 

Milton's  training  began  at  ten  years  of  age  under  the 

direction  of  a  private  tutor  in  the  person  of 
Education.  -r>      •,  •    •   .  o      .    v  rri 

a    1  uritan    minister,   a    Scotchman,    1  nomas 

Young.      He  attended  St.  Paul's   School  in  London, 

and  in  1625,  then  in  his  seventeenth  year,  entered  the 

University  of  Cambridge  and  was  enrolled  a  student 

of  Christ's  College.    Here  Milton  remained  until  July, 

1632,  when,  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  he  received  the 

master's  degree. 

Of  Milton's  student  life  we  have  a  few  interesting 

At  cam-        details.     We  know  that  it  was  his  practice  to 

bridge.         g^  till  midnight  with  his  book,  and  that  this 

close  application  to  his  studies  was  the  first  occasion 

of  that  trouble  which  resulted  later  in  his  blindness. 

We  are  told  that  he  performed  the  academical  exercises 


JOHN   MILTON  183 

to  the  admiration  of  all,  and  was  esteemed  a  virtuous 
and  sober  person,  yet  not  ignorant  of  his  own  parts. 
A  picturesque  and  an  attractive  figure  is  this  youth 
just  coming  of  age  —  not  precisely  the  type  which  the 
Puritan  character  is  apt  to  suggest  —  a  fair  complex- 
ion, delicate  features,  dark  gray  eyes,  and  auburn  hair 
falling  upon  his  shoulders.  The  fairness  of  his  oval 
face  seemed  feminine  in  its  delicacy,  and  he  was  some- 
times called  "  the  lady  of  Christ's."  His  figure,  if 
slight,  was  erect,  and  his  gait  was  manly.  Like  all 
gentlemen  he  used  the  sword  with  skill,  and  thought 
himself  a  match  for  any  one. 

The  young  poet  had  composed  English  and  Latin 
verses  at  an  early  age.  His  first  English  poem  of  any 
note  belongs  to  the  year  1626,  and  commemorates  the 
death  of  an  infant,  his  sister's  child.  In  1629  he  pro- 
duced the  well-known  Ode  on  the  Morning  of  Christ's 
Nativity.  "It  is  a  gift,"  he  says,  "I  have  presented 
to  Christ's  natal-day.  On  that  very  morning  at  day- 
break it  was  first  conceived."  Various  odes  of  less  im- 
portance followed,  together  with  much  minor  verse. 
The  Epitaph  on  Shakespeare  was  Milton's  first  pub- 
lished poem  ;  it  found  a  place  among  the  tributes  in- 
cluded in  the  folio  edition  of  the  plays,  published  in 
1632.  The  sonnet,  On  His  Being  Arrived  at  the  Age 
of  Twenty-three,  is  a  fine  expression  of  the  serious 
mind  of  this  young  Puritan  who  will  use  his  ripening 
manhood  as  ever  in  his  great  taskmaster's  eye. 

Following  the  period  of  residence  at  Cambridge 
Milton  went  to  live  at  his  father's  house  in 
Horton,  seventeen  miles  from  London,  near 
Windsor  and  Eton.  In  this  quiet  environment  he 
passed  the  next  six  years  of  his  life,  making  occasional 
visits  to  London,  devoting  his  time  to  study,  and  find- 
ing delightful   recreation  in  music   and  mathematics. 


184        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

Here  at  Horton  he  wrote  the  group  of  five  composi- 
tions which  we  cull  his  minor  poems,  —  not  because  of 
any  inferiority  in  them,  but  because  of  the  surpassing 
greutness  of  his  later  work.  Indeed,  had  John  Milton 
never  written  Paradise  Lost,  the  author  of  IS  Allegro, 
II  Penseroso,  Com/as,  and  Lycidas  would  have  been 
reckoned,  among  the  great  poets  of  our  literature. 
These  poems  reflect  the  varying  moods  of  Milton's  mind. 
L 'Allegro  and  II  Penseroso,  companion  pictures  of 
the  man  in  joyous,  lively  mood,  and  again  serious,  con- 
templative, solitary,  appropriately  precede  the  masque 
Comus,  presented  at  Ludlow  Castle  (1634),  in  which 
the  poet  breaks  forth  in  vigorous  denunciation  of  the 
violence  and  license  of  the  time.  In  Arcades,  a  lighter 
composition  of  the  same  period,  there  are  no  allusions 
of  a  political  character;  but  in  Lycithis  (1637),  the 
exquisite  elegy  inspired  by  the  death  of  his  friend 
Edward  King,  the  poet  voices  an  indignant  protest 
against  a  corrupt  and  selfish  priesthood,  and  comments 
unsparingly  upon  the  evils  of  his  age. 

During  1638-39  Milton  made  the  European  tour. 
Continental  He  visited  Paris,  and  saw  the  eminent  Dutch 
Travel.  scholar  Grotius.  He  then  traveled  through 
Italy,  visiting  Genoa,  Leghorn,  Pisa.  Florence,  and 
Rome.  At  Florence  he  remained  two  months,  and  while 
there  went  to  see  Galileo,  who  was  in  prison,  and 
blind.  This  courtly,  handsome,  cultured  Englishman 
was  well  received  in  the  society  of  these  Italian  towns. 
At  Rome  he  was  graciously  entertained  for  three 
months,  and  verses  were  written  in  his  praise.  Then 
came  sudden  news  of  a  rising  in  Scotland.  Milton 
knew  its  significance  and  the  Puritan  conscience  spoke  : 
"  The  sad  news  of  civil  war  coming  from  England 
called  me  back  :  for  I  thought  it  disgraceful,  while  my 
fellow   countrymen    were   fighting   for   liberty,  that   I 


MILTON'S   PROSE   WORKS  185 

should  be  traveling  abroad  for  pleasure."  :  But  the 
crisis  had  not  yet  come,  and  the  poet  did  not  hasten 
his  return.  This  first  outbreak  had  subsided  when  he 
again  arrived  in  London  in  July,  1639.  Concerning 
his  foreign  visit  and  his  own  personal  conduct  in  a 
period  of  general  license,  Milton  afterward  declared : 
"  I  again  take  God  to  witness  that  in  all  those  places 
where  so  many  things  are  considered  lawful,  I  lived 
sound  and  untouched  from  all  profligacy  and  vice, 
having  this  thought  perpetually  before  me,  that  though 
I  might  escape  the  eyes  of  men,  I  certainly  could  nofr 
the  eyes  of  God."  1 

The  household  at  Ilorton  was  now  broken  up,  and 
Milton  took  lodgings  in  London,  where  for  a 
time  he  directed  the   education    of    his   two 
nephews  and  the  sons  of  other  friends. 

He  was  already  pondering  plans  for  some  great  po- 
etical work,  undoubtedly  stimulated  in  this  ambition 
by  his  intercourse  with  the  writers  of  Italy  and  his 
recent  acquaintance  with  their  works.  The  subject  of 
King  Arthur  had  already  suggested  itself ;  and  there 
are  among  the  poet's  papers  of  this  date,  lists  of  sub- 
jects, more  than  a  hundred  in  all,  some  taken  from 
British  history,  some  from  the  Bible  ;  there  are  also 
drafts  of  a  sacred  drama  on  the  theme  of  Paradise 
Lost. 

A  well-defined  period  in  Milton's  life  is  that  included 

bv  the  years  1640-00.     This  was  the  period   „,„    , 
....  .  .  Milton  s 

of  civil  agitation  and  national  turmoil  attend-   Prose 

ing  the  struggle  between  the  two  hostile  par-      or  s- 

ties,  the  trial  of   Charles,  his  execution  in  1649,  the 

establishment  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  the  downfall 

of  the  second  Protectorate.     Into  the  controversy  of 

that  troubled  age  the  poet  of  puritanism  flung  himself 

1  Defensio  Secunda. 


186        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

wholly.  In  his  Second  Defense  he  declares :  "  I  re- 
solved, though  I  was  then  meditating  other  matters,  to 
transfer  into  this  struggle  all  my  genius  and  all  the 
strength  of  my  industry." 

To  this  period  of  Milton's  life  belong  the  prose 
works :  the  pamphlets,  tractates,  and  defenses  which 
make  up  his  contributions  to  political  and  controversial 
literature.     These  prose  writings  comprise  :  — 

I.  A  group  of  five  pamphlets  against  episcopacy 
(1641-42). 

II.  Four  papers  on  divorce  (1643-45). 

III.  The  Tractate  on  Education  (1644). 

IV.  Areopagitica, — a  plea  for  unlicensed  printing 
(1644). 

V.  Many  pamphlets  upon  civil  affairs,  including 
Eilconoklastes  (1649),  the  Pro  Populo  Anglicano 
Defensio  (1651),  and  the  Defensio  >S(<-inu/<(  (1654). 

Milton's  controversial  writings  are  marred  by  the 
abusive  attacks  which  always  characterized  controversy 
in  that  day,  but  one  or  two  of  these  papers  stand  far 
above  the  rest.  The  Areopagitica,  particularly,  is 
an  eloquent  and  beautiful  work.  The  areopagus  was 
the  forum  of  Athens,  the  court  of  public  appeal,  the 
Mars  Hill  of  Paul's  address ;  hence  the  significance  of 
the  title.  Previous  to  publication  all  manuscripts  were 
submitted  to  an  official  censor  who  might  give  or  refuse 
license  for  their  printing.  The  law  had  a  demoralizing 
effect  on  the  production  of  books ;  in  the  beginning 
of  1643  only  thirty-five  publications  were  registered. 
Milton's  argument  for  the  freedom  of  the  press  was  a 
splendid  defense  of  books,  yet  no  results  followed  his 
brilliant  appeal. 

In  March,  1649,  two  months  after  the  execution 
of  Charles  I.,  Milton  was  appointed  Latin  Secretary 
to  the   committee  of  foreign   affairs   under  the  Com- 


THE   RESTORATION  187 

monwealth.  In  that  year  appeared  a  work  put  forth 
by  Royalists,  entitled  Eikon  Basilike,  or  The  LatIn 
Royal  Image,  purporting  to  be  the  work  of  Secretary, 
the  king  in  his  last  days,  and  giving  a  most  favorable 
picture  of  his  religious  fervor.  Milton  wrote  a  reply, 
JEJileonoklastes,  or  The  Image  Breaker.  While  the 
duties  of  the  secretary  were  primarily  connected  with 
the  official  correspondence  of  the  Government,  which 
was  conducted  in  Latin,  he  was  employed  in  these  po- 
litical controversies  for  many  years.  In  1651  he  was 
warned  by  physicians  that  his  sight,  which  had  long 
been  failing,  would  be  utterly  destroyed  if  he  persisted 
in  his  arduous  work ;  still  he  kept  on  at  his  task,  and 
in  the  following  year  became  entirely  blind.  Even 
then  he  retained  his  office  and  attended  to  its  duties. 

The  accession  of  Charles  II.  was  the  signal  for  a 
period  of  gross  license  and  excess.  It  seemed  The 
as  if  all  the  graceless  spirits  of  evil,  which  had  Restoration, 
been  so  rigorously  repressed  under  the  somewhat  grim 
rule  of  the  Puritans,  had  broken  bounds  and  were  free 
of  any  semblance  of  restraint.  England  swung  from 
one  extreme  to  the  other,  and  the  pleasures  of  the  court 
were  sought  in  ribaldry  and  vice.  The  last  period  of 
Milton's  life  was  passed  in  the  depression  incident  to 
such  an  age.  When  the  Royalist  party  was  again  in 
power,  prominent  Independents  were  at  once  pro- 
scribed ;  and  the  former  Latin  Secretary  had  been  too 
staunch  a  supporter  of  Cromwell  and  the  Common- 
wealth to  escape.  For  some  months  he  was  forced  into 
hiding,  remaining  under  protection  of  friends.  The 
EikonoMastes  and  the  two  Defenses  of  the  English 
people  were  burned  by  the  common  hangman.  From 
August  to  December,  Milton  was  in  actual  custody,  but 
was  then  freed.  He  was  very  poor.  In  1666  his  house 
was  burned  in  the  great  fire  which  ravaged  London  in 


188  FROM    BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

that  year.  The  poet  had  been  twice  married.  His  first 
wife,  Mary  Powell,  left  three  daughters,  who  are  re- 
ported to  have  been  rather  undutiful  and  careless  of 
his  comfort.  The  second  wife,  Catherine  Woodcock, 
whose  marriage  with  the  poet  took  place  in  1656,  lived 
but  little  more  than  a  year.  In  1663  Milton  married 
again,  and  this  third  wife,  Elizabeth  Minshnll,  survived 
him. 

During  the  years  1658-65  the  poet  was  engaged 
Paradise  upon  his  great  poem,  Paradise  Lost.  When 
Lost.  published   two  years  later,   it  failed  of   the 

recognition  due  to  so  remarkable  a  work,  although  the 
fact  is  not  surprising  when  we  recall  the  character  of 
the  time  and  the  conditions  under  which  Milton's  poem 
first  saw  the  light. 

Pan/disc  Lost  is  our  great  English  epic.  The  scope 
of  its  plan  is  the  most  ambitious  that  a  poet  could  con- 
ceive ;  and  yet  with  a  superb  consciousness  of  power 
correspondent  to  his  task,  Milton  invokes  the  Heavenly 
Muse  to  aid  his  adventurous  song 

"  That  with  no  middle  flight  intends  to  soar 
Above  tlie  Aonian  mount,  while  it  pursues 
Things  unattempted  yejfc  in  pmse  or  rhyme." 

His  lofty  purpose  is  to 

"  assert  eternal  Providence 
And  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  men." 

It  seems  as  if  the  poet  at  times  felt  that  he  was  di- 
rectly inspired  in  the  execution  of  his  task.  He  relied, 
as  he  declares,  "  on  devout  prayer  to  that  Eternal  Spirit 
who  can  enrich  with  all  utterance  and  knowledge  and 
sends  out  his  Seraphim  with  the  hallowed  fire  of  his 
altar,  to  touch  and  purify  the  lips  of  whom  he  pleases." 
Elsewhere  he  refers  to 


PARADISE 

LOST. 


BOOK    I. 


F    Mans    Firft:    Difobedience ,     and 
the   Fruit 
Of  that  Forbidden  Tree,    whofe 

mortal   taft 
Brought  Death   into   the  World  3 
and  all  our  woe, 
With  Iofs  of  Eden,  till  one  greater  Man 
Heirore  us,  and  regain  the  blifsful  Seat, 
Sing  Heav'nly  Mufe,  that  on  the  fecret  top 
Of  Oreb,   or  of  Sinai,  didft  infpire 
That  Shepherd,who  firft  taught  the  chofen  Seed, 
In  the  Beginning  how  the  Heav'ns  and  Earth 
Rofe  out  of  Chaot  :  Or  if  Sion  Hill 
Delight  thee  more,  and  Siloa  s  Brook  that  flow'd 
Faft  by  the  Oracle  of  God  ■-,  I  thence 
Invoke  thy  aid  to  my  adventrous  Song, 
That  with  no  middle  flight  intends  to  foar 

A  Above 


10 


190  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

"my  celestial  patroness,  who  deigns 
Her  nightly  visitation  unimplor'd, 

And  dictates  to  me  slumb'ring,  or  inspires 
Easy  my  unpremeditated  verse."  1 

The  great  Puritan  was  indeed  filled  with  the  spirit 
of  his  faith,  and  his  mind  was  stored  with  unusual 
treasures  of  knowledge  from  which  he  drew,  almost 
unconscious  of  their  wealth.  His  style,  always  dignified 
and  stately,  even  in  the  minor  poems,  now  rose  to  loftier 
heights.  His  great  creation  is  the  character  of  Satan. 
The  most  impressive  portions  of  the  poem  are  found  in 
the  first  two  books.  Especially  effective  in  the  de- 
scriptive passages  are  the  phrasings  by  which  the  poet 
suggests  the  vagueness  and  vastness  of  his  scenes. 

"  Who  shall  tempt  with  wand'ring  feet 
The  dark  unbottoni'd  infinite  abyss, 
And  through  the  palpable  obscure  find  out 
His  uncouth  way,  or  spread  his  very  flight, 
Upborne  with  indefatigable  wings 
Over  the  vast  abrupt.  .  .  ."  2 

Following  the  order  of  its  plan,  the  epic  proceeds 
with  the  account  of  the  fallen  angels,  their  infernal 
council,  and  Satan's  journey  to  the  new-created  earth. 
The  first  pair  are  described  in  Eden.  Raphael,  the 
archangel,  is  sent  and  instructs  them  concerning  the 
revolt  of  Satan  and  his  hosts  ;  he  recounts  the  story  of 
creation,  and  finally  departs.  The  narrative  of  man's 
fall  then  follows,  and  the  expulsion  of  the  pair  from 
Paradise.  As  has  been  stated,  Milton's  success  is  great- 
est in  the  earlier  part  of  his  work  :  the  human  char- 
acters are  far  less  impressive  than  those  that  move  amid 
the  awful  gloom  of  the  earlier  scenes.  When  the  poet 
enters  celestial  regions  and  attempts  to  present  Deity 
itself,  he  has  passed  the  bounds  of  human  ability,  and 

i  Book  IX.  11.  21-24. 
2  Book  II.  11.  404-408. 


LAST   POEMS  191 

fixed  the  limits  of  his  own  dramatic  success.  But  there 
is  no  other  poem  like  Paradise  Lost.  Its  sublimity  of 
vision,  its  height  of  imaginative  creation,  its  solemn 
grandeur  of  great  harmonies,  have  never  been  equaled 
in  English  verse. 

Paradise  Regained  was  written  in  1666  in  response 
to  a  suggestion  that  the  poet  should  present  this  Last 
side  of  man's  religious  experience ;  and  the  Poems- 
latter  poem  stands  as  a  pendant  to  the  earlier.     In  the 
story  of  the  temptation  of  our  Lord  the  poet  finds  the 
material  of  a  new  epic,  and  now  sings  :  — 

"  Recover'd  Paradise  to  all  mankind, 
By  one  man's  firm  obedience  fully  try'd 
Through  all  temptation,  and  the  tempter  foil'd 
In  all  his  wiles,  defeated,  and  repuls'd, 
And  Eden  rais'd  in  the  waste  wilderness." 

The  last  important  composition,  Samson  Agonistes, 
appeared  in  1671.  This  picture  of  the  struggling 
champion  of  Israel,  beset  and  afflicted  by  mocking 
enemies,  gains  a  new  significance  when  we  remember 
Milton's  blindness  and  the  political  environment  of  his 
closing  years.  The  poem  of  Samson  is  cast  on  the  lines 
of  the  ancient  Greek  drama  and  is  characterized  by 
classic  stateliness  and  austerity  of  style. 

Milton  was  not  left  lonely  in  his  last  years.  Friends 
attended  him,  and  foreigners  in  England  sought  him 
out.  One  writer  1  of  the  time  declares  that  "  he  was 
visited  by  the  learned  much  more  than  he  did  desire." 
One  who  saw  him  thus  describes  the  poet  as  sitting  in 
an  elbow-chair  in  his  chamber,  dressed  neatly  in  black ; 
pale,  but  not  cadaverous  ;  his  hands  and  fingers  gouty, 
and  with  chalk-stones.  He  used  also  to  sit  at  the  door 
of  his  house  in  Bunhill  Fields,  wrapped  in  a  gray 
coarse  cloth  coat,  to  enjoy  the  fresh  air  ;  and  sometimes 

1  Aubrey. 


192  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

here,  sometimes  in  his  room,  he  received  his  guests. 
Milton  died  November  8,  1074,  and  was  buried  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate. 

L' Allegro  a.\i>  II  Penskkoso.  These  two  exquisite 
Suggestions  poems  should  be  studied  together.  Kadi  is  the 
forstudy.  pendant  of  the  other,  and  the  parallelism  is  very 
close.  They  are  descriptive  poems,  —  pictures  of  nature  and 
of  incident  as  they  are  seen  by  the  poet  under  two  varying 
moods. 

V  Allegro  is  the  man  in  lively  mood  ;  II  Penseroso,  the 
man  thoughtful,  contemplative.  Milton  does  not  use  the 
word  "  melancholy  "  precisely  in  the  sense  in  which  we  now 
use  that  term. 

In  the  study  of  these  poems  first  note  the  many  ways  in 
which  the  parallelism  is  perfected.  Compare  the  invoca- 
tions of  both  poems,  also  their  conclusions.  What  characters 
in  II  Penseroso  correspond  to  Euphrosyne  (line  12),  Venus 
(line  14),  Bacchus  (line  16),  Jest  and  Jollity  (line  26),  Sport 
(line  31),  Laughter  (line  32),  Liberty  (line  36)  ?  Now  fol- 
low in  their  course  respectively  the  incidents  described  :  on 
the  one  hand  those  that  mark  the  progress  of  the  day,  on 
the  other  those  that  attend  the  passing  of  the  night.  Com- 
pare these  two  pictures,  the  happy  social  scenes  of  country 
life,  bright  with  sunshine,  cheery  with  companionship,  and 
blessed  with  contented  toil,  and  the  calm  solitude  of  the 
night,  bathed  in  the  full  moon's  splendor,  the  peaceful  quiet 
made  more  impressive  by  the  mellow  notes  of  the  nightin- 
gale, the  distant  chiming  of  the  curfew  bell,  or  the  drowsy 
calling  of  the  hours  by  the  watchman's  muffled  voice.  Point 
out  the  correspondences  in  //  Allegro,  lines  130-150,  and 
II  Penseroso,  lines  97-120.  It  should  be  understood  that 
in  neither  poem  does  the  author  follow  strictly  an  immediate 
succession  of  incidents  continuous  and  unbroken.  For  ex- 
ample, in  the  first  poem  it  is  now  the  song  of  the  lark  and 
the  crowing  of  the  cock  by  which  he  is  awakened  ;  and  then 
it  is  the  sound  of  hounds  and  horn  ;  again  the  whistle  of  the 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  193 

ploughman  ami  the  milkmaid's  song  usher  in  the  day.  And 
so  in  the  other  poem  if  the  even-song  of  Philomel  be  not 
forthcoming,  the  poet  walks  in  the  shadow  and  the  moon- 
light, "  or  if  the  air  will  not  permit,"  sits  beside  the  glowing 
embers,  or  lights  his  lamp  to  pore  over  Plato  or  iEschylus, 
the  Greek  dramatists  or  Chaucer,  as  he  feels  inclined.  And 
yet  the  passage  of  time  is  also  clearly  suggested.  From 
your  study  of  the  poems  can  you  say  which  mood  is  most 
honored  of  Milton  or  which  is  the  more  characteristic  of 
him  ?  In  a  detailed  study  of  these  poems  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  understand  the  allusions,  classical  and  otherwise.  In 
U  Allegro  what  is  the  significance  of  introducing  Cerberus 
(line  2)  ?  why  Stygian  (line  3)  ?  Cimmerian  (line  10)?  In 
II  Penseroso  why  is  Morpheus  mentioned  (line  10)  ?  Prince 
Menmon's  sister  (line  10)  is  Hemera  ;  the  "  starred  Ethiope 
queen  "  is  Cassiopeia ;  the  Sea  Nymphs  are  the  Nereids : 
a  classical  dictionary  will  explain  the  force  of  the  allusion 
here.     Proceed  thus  with  later  allusions  in  the  poems. 

The  metre  of  these  two  poems  is  simple.  The  first  ten 
verses  which  form  the  introduction  in  each  follow  the  rhyme 
order  a  —  bb  —  a  —  c  —  dd  —  ee  —  e  ;  afterward  the  verses 
rhyme  in  couplets.  In  the  first  ten  lines,  too,  we  have  verses 
of  three  accents  alternating  with  those  of  five  ;  subsequently 
the  verses  are  all  of  four  accents.  The  type  form  is  as  in 
verse  11  :  — 

"  But  c6me,  thou  G6ddess,  Mir  and  fr£e." 

Milton  varies  the  placing  of  the  accent  with  an  artist's  skill 
that  relieves  the  composition  of  all  monotony.  While  it  is 
right  to  read  such  poetry  as  this  without  thought  of  the 
mere  mechanics  of  its  structure,  it  is  not  right  to  pass  over 
such  consummate  composition  without  some  appreciation  of 
its  technique.  Therefore  notice  the  dropping  of  the  first 
syllable  of  the  normal  verse  in  verse  13  :  — 

"  And  by  m£n  heart-eAsing  mirth." 

Find  other  illustrations  of  this  arrangement.  Notice  another 
variation,  —  the  use  of  double  or  feminine  rhymes  in  lines 


194        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

45-46.  Read  aloud,  emphasizing  accent  and  pause,  the  pas- 
sage inZ'  Allegro  beginning  "  Haste  thee, nymph  "  (line  25), 
and  as  far  as  line  40 ;  does  there  not  seem  to  be  a  natural 
appropriateness  of  the  metre  to  the  sense?  In  the  same 
manner  read  the  corresponding  passage  in  II  Penseroso  (lines 
30-54).  In  L' Allegro  (lines  45-46)  the  thought  is  not  that 
the  lark  is  to  appear  in  the  window,  but  that  the  poet,  awak- 
ening at  the  summons  of  the  songster,  himself  arises,  throws 
off  his  melancholy,  and  greets  the  world,  which  is  wide 
awake.  Now  take  notice  of  the  series  of  pictures  descriptive 
of  the  rural  pleasures.  In  how  many  phrases  has  the  poet 
described  the  dawn  ?  Compare  line  40  with  Chaucer's  pic- 
ture of  the  dawn  in  The  Knight's  Tale  (lines  633-638), 
"The  bisy  larke,"  etc.,  and  line  60  with  Shakespeare  in 
Romeo  and  Juliet,  III.  v.  and  Hamlet,  I.  i.  166.  Think  over 
the  suggestiveness  of  the  epithets  used  in  such  phrases  as 
"  dappled  dawn  "  (line  44),  "  amber  light  "  (line  61) ,  "  rus- 
set knvns  "  (line  71),  "nibbling  flocks"  (line  72),  "labour- 
ing clouds  "  (line  74).  Consider  how  effective  are  lines  like 
1 1 6, 135-144.  Notice  the  tribute  to  Jonson  and  Shakespeare. 
Just  what  does  Milton  mean  in  lines  132-134,  and  in  II 
Penseroso,  lines  155-174  ?  What  sort  of  a  man  does  the 
poet  portray  in  the  moods  of  these  two  poems  ? 

Comus.  The  masque  Comus  is  perhaps  the  most  perfect 
of  Milton's  poems.  It  belongs  to  a  class  of  compositions 
popular  in  the  age  of  Elizabeth  and  James,  and  developed 
with  elaborate  form  by  Ben  Jonson.  The  masque  was  a 
dramatic  performance  which  combined  the  effects  of  poetry, 
music,  and  dancing,  and  was  closely  related  to  the  more 
modern  operetta.  Milton's  Comus  was  written  in  collabora- 
tion with  Henry  Lawes,  a  distinguished  musician,  at  whose 
suggestion  the  poet  had  written  Arcades,  a  briefer  and 
slighter  composition,  presented  at  Harefield  in  honor  of 
the  Countess  of  Derby  in  the  previous  year.  Comus  was 
presented  at  Ludlow  Castle  in  L634  before  the  Earl  of 
Bridge  water.  Lawes  composed  the  music  for  the  songs  and 
dances,  superintended  the  presentation,  and  acted  the  part 
of  the  Attendant  Spirit  in  the  masque.     The  spirit  of  Mil- 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  195 

ton's  work  is  pastoral ;  the  allusions  are  mainly  to  classic 
mythology,  and  the  poem  takes  on  an  allegorical  significance 
—  as  was  common  in  the  masque.  The  character  of  Comus 
had  been  introduced  in  an  earlier  masque  by  Ben  Jonson, 
and  there  had  been  published  at  Oxford  in  this  same  year  a 
Latin  prose  work  describing  a  dream  in  which  Comus  figures. 
The  story  of  the  lost  sister,  sought  for  by  her  two  brothers, 
is  found  in  a  play  called  Old  Wives''  Tale,  by  George  Peele 
(1595).  In  Comus  Milton  uses  for  the  most  part  the  blank 
verse  of  ten  syllables,  with  five  accents,  the  ordinary  metre 
of  the  drama.  The  theme  of  the  masque  is  the  grace  of 
purity,  the  "  sun-clad  power  of  chastity  "  (line  782),  which 
to  the  mind  of  the  young  Puritan  was  in  as  direful  peril 
at  the  court  of  Charles  as  in  the  revel-haunted  wood  of 
Comus  and  his  rout.  Especially  expressive  of  the  Puritan 
ideal  of  virtue  are  the  passages  in  which  the  Elder  Brother 
speaks  (lines  584-599;,  the  splendid  defiance  in  the  Lady's 
speech  (lines  756-799),  and  the  closing  words  of  the  Spirit 
(lines  1018-1023).  Compare  the  spirit  of  Comus  with  that 
of  U  Allegro.  Is  there  any  contradiction  in  the  sympathies 
expressed  ? 

Lycidas.  "  In  Lycidas,"  says  Pattison,  the  biographer 
of  Milton,  "  we  have  reached  the  high- water  mark  of  Eng- 
lish poesy  and  of  Milton's  own  production."  This  is  extreme 
praise  ;  and  yet  it  suggests  that  the  poem  is  worthy  of  the 
most  careful  examination,  and  that  in  sentiment  and  form  it 
should  arouse  some  degree  of  genuine  appreciation  in  every 
serious  reader.  What  are  some  of  the  facts  to  be  noted  by 
a  student  of  Lycidas  ? 

First,  it  is  an  elegy,  written  in  honor  of  Edward  King, 
an  old  classmate  of  Milton  at  the  University  of  Cambridge, 
where  he  had  been  in  residence  since  June,  1626,  first  as 
undergraduate,  then  as  fellow,  and  finally  tutor.  In  the  sum- 
mer vacation  of  1637  King  made  a  trip  by  sea  to  Ireland 
and  was  drowned  in  the  wreck  of  the  vessel,  which  struck 
upon  a  rock  not  long  after  leaving  the  port.  In  the  autumn 
a  memorial  volume  was  planned  by  the  friends  of  Edward 
King,  and  for  it  Milton  wrote  his  Lycidas  in  November  of 


196        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

the  same  year,  1637.  The  hook  itself  was  not  published 
until  1638,  and  Milton's  elegy  was  placed  at  its  close.  There 
are  three  great  elegies  in  English  literature  which  form  a 
famous  group,  surpassing  in  general  interest  and  impressive 
character  all  others  of  the  kind.  These  are  (1)  Milton's 
Lycidas  (1637),  in  memory  of  King  ;  (2)  Shelley's  Adonais 
(1821),  called  forth  by  the  death  of  Keats;  and  (3)  Tenny- 
son's In  Memorlam  (1850),  the  loving  personal  tribute  and 
record  of  personal  experience  which  followed  the  death  of 
his  intimate  friend,  Arthur  Henry  Halhun.  Of  these  three 
poems  Milton's  is  the  most  artificial  and  is  less  suggestive  of 
a  deep  personal  grief  than  is  In  Memoriam.  Shelley's  poem 
was  inspired  by  pity  and  indignation  rather  than  by  love,  but 
there  is  in  it  more  of  the  spontaneity  of  passion  than  in  the 
Lycidas.  And  yet  Milton's  great  composition  is  filled  with 
beauties  of  its  own  that  make  its  distinction  secure. 

Secondly,  Lycidas  is  a  pastoral  poem,  employing  the 
machinery  of  shepherds  and  utilizing  the  mythology  of  Rome. 
Since  the  appearance  of  Spenser's  Shepherd's  Calendar, 
pastoral  motives  had  been  the  delight  of  Elizabethan  writers 
and  readers,  not  only  in  lyric  poetry,  but  in  dramatic  verse, 
and  even  in  romantic  prose  as  well.  Therefore  it  was  only 
natural  that  Milton  should  figure  forth  his  monody  under 
the  fiction  of  "  the  uncouth  swain  "  who 

"  touched  the  tender  stop  of  various  quills 
With  eager  thought  warbling  his  Doric  lay." 

Third,  the  spirit  and  the  tone  are  strikingly  in  unison 
throughout.     The  introduction  presents  the  shepherd,  lament- 
ing his  own  immaturity  perhaps,  compelled  by 
"  Bitter  constraint  and  sad  occasion  dear  " 

to  rudely  break  in  on  nature's  course  with  a  disturbing 
touch,  to  force  a  tribute  because  Lycidas  is  dead  —  dead  ere 
his  prime.  There  is,  of  course,  in  this  suggestion  of  reluct- 
ance, an  allusion  to  Milton's  formulated  resolve,  after  the 
completion  of  his  masque  of  Covins  (1634),  not  to  resume 
the  poet's  voice  until  another  epoch  should  dawn  in  his  own 
career  and  in  his  country's  history.      But  — 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  197 

"  Hence  with  denial  vain  and  coy  excuse  :  " 

and  thus  the  Sisters  of  the  Sacred  Well  are  invoked  hy  the 
poet  and  he  proceeds  with  his  gracious  task.  In  keeping 
with  the  classic  character  of  the  poem  are  the  proper  names 
employed,  which  are  familiar  terms  in  the  Latin  Eclogues; 
the  mythological  allusions  should  be  identified.  There  are 
some  inconsistencies,  anachronisms,  as  the  introduction  of  the 
Pilot  of  the  Galilean  lake  —  St.  Peter,  of  course  —  (fine  109), 
and  of  Him  who  walked  the  waves  (line  173)  ;  as  well  also 
the  allusion  to  the  dead  shepherd's  entertainment  by  "  all  the 
saints  above"  (line  178).  The  use  of  classic  names  to  desig- 
nate English  localities  and  institutions  is  justified  by  the 
nature  of  the  pastoral.  Examples  are  Mona  (Anglesey), 
Deva  (the  Dee)  (line  55),  Camus  (the  genius  of  Cambridge, 
where  the  poet  and  his  friend  had  studied)  (line  103). 

Interesting  is  the  allusion  to  contemporary  literature  con- 
tained in  lines  64-69  :  — 

"  Alas  !  what  boots  it  with  uncessant  care 
To  tend  the  homely  slighted  shepherd's  trade, 
And  strictly  meditate  the  thankless  Muse  ? 
Were  it  not  better  done  as  others  use, 
To  sport  with  Amaryllis  in  the  shade, 
Or  with  the  tangles  of  Nesera's  hair  ?  " 

In  this  passage  Milton  suggests  the  query  whether  it  be 
better  to  follow  the  high  ideal  of  purity,  simplicity,  and  stern 
morality  which  was  his  poetical  creed,  or  to  join  in  the  loose 
and  pleasure-loving  chorus  of  Cavalier  song  writers  and 
amatory  poets  of  Charles's  court. 
In  the  passage  beginning 

"  Last  came,  and  last  did  go, 
The  Pilot  of  the  Galilean  lake  "  (lines  109-110), 

we  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  real  passion  of  Milton's  soul,  almost 
his  first  formal  attack  on  the  abuses  and  errors  of  the  spirit- 
ual leaders  of  his  day.  Edward  King  had  been  intended 
for  the  Church,  and  the  poet  mourns  his  untimely  death  as  for 
one  who  would  have  made  a  good  pastor,  a  true  shepherd. 
In  the  person  of  Peter  the  indignant  poet  exclaims  :  — 


198        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

"  How  well  could  I  have  spar'd  for  thee,  young  swain. 
Enow  of  such  as  for  their  hellies'  sake 
Creep,  and  intrude,  and  clinih  into  the  fold  ? 
Of  other  care  they  little  reckoning  make 
Than  how  to  scramble  at  the  shearer's  feast, 
And  shove  away  the  worthy  bidden  guest ; 
Blind  mouths !   that  scarce  themselves  know  how  to  hold 
A  sheep-hook,  or  have  learn'd  aught  else  the  least 
That  to  the  faithful  herdman's  art  belongs !  " 

The  expression  "  blind  mouths  "  is  a  famous  one  and  has 
caused  considerable  criticism  and  comment.  It  seems  to  be 
decidedly  a  mixing  of  ideas,  and  when  we  try  to  follow  the 
thought  further,  we  are  puzzled  by  the  introduction  of  a  new 
metaphor  in  the  use  of  the  sheep-hook,  or  shepherd's  crook, 
and  wonder  how  the  combination  of  blind  mouths  holding  a 
sheep-hook  could  be  conceived.  But  of  course  this  is  intense 
concentration  of  thought  and  figure  both ;  Shakespeare  allows 
himself  such  license  again  and  again  ;  and  here  the  poet's 
thought  is  clear  enough,  while  it  gains  tremendous  force  from 
the  mingling  of  the  metaphors.  Milton  is  speaking  of  the 
bishops  and  the  pastors  of  the  established  state  church. 
Now  a  bishop  is  a  watchman,  an  over-seer,  and  a  pastor  is  a. 
shepherd,  a  feeder  of  the  sheep.  What,  then,  more  striking 
figure  can  be  imagined  to  express  "  the  precisely  accurate 
contraries  of  right  character,  in  the  two  great  offices  of  the 
Church  —  those  of  bishop  and  pastor  "  ?  —  as  John  Ruskir 
points  out  in  his  essay,  Sesame  and  Lilies.  Concerning  the 
exact  application  of  the  reference  to  the  two-handed  engine 
in  line  130,  at  least  two  different  interpretations  have  been 
urged,  and  Milton's  thought  is  uncertain.      With  line  132, 

"  Return,  Alpheus  ;  the  dread  voice  is  past, 
That  shrunk  thy  streams," 

the  poet  resumes  the  purely  pastoral  strain  and  continues 
his  simpler  Doric  lay. 

Milton  employs  some  native  Anglo-Saxon  words  that  have 
in  time  become  unusual  if  not  obsolete,  but  like  all  such 
words  they  carry  peculiar  force  when  their  meaning  is  rightly 
understood.  Thus  welter  (line  13)  means  to  roll,  or  wallow, 
to  tumble  about,  and  is  particularly  suggestive  of  the  forlorn 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  199 

pitilessness  of  the  tossing  waves  as  they  carelessly  pitch  and 
roll  the  body  of  the  drowned.  Scrannel  (line  124)  means 
paved  o\  peeled,  scraped  till  thin  and  poor;  rathe  (line  142), 
early  positive  of  rather ;  uncouth  (line  186),  literally,  un- 
known, strange,  hence,  later,  awkward. 

The  authority  on  Milton  is  David  Masson.  Masson's  Life 
of  John  Milton,  namuted  in  connection  with  the  Brief  Bib- 
political,  ecclesiastical  and  literary  history  of  his  Uography. 
time  (Macmillan),  is  the  source  of  all  subsequent  statement, 
and  is  one  of  the  few  great  biographies  in  our  literature. 
The  life  of  Milton  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  by 
Mark  Pattison,  is  brief,  as  is  that  by  Garnett  in  the  Great 
Writers  Series. 

Interesting  studies  of  Milton  have  been  made  by  Addison 
in  the  Spectator,  267,  Johnson  in  his  Lives  of  the  Poets, 
Macaulay  in  his  essay  on  Milton,  Lowell  in  Among  my 
Books,  Matthew  Arnold  in  Essays  in  Criticism,  2d  ser. 

In  special  criticism  Stopford  Brooke's  Milton,  in  Classical 
Writers  Series,  is  valuable.  The  notes  upon  the  minor 
poems  are  elaborate  in  Hales's  Longer  English  Poems.  In 
Ruskin's  Sesame  and  Lilies  there  is  a  well-known  and  help- 
ful comment  on  Lycidas.  A  good  edition  of  Paradise  Lost 
is  that  edited  by  John  A.  Himes  (Harpers),  with  introduc- 
tion and  notes.  Masson's  Three  Devils,  Luther's,  Milton's, 
Goethe's,  and  Other  Essays  is  recommended.  Taine's  His- 
tory of  English  Literature  contains  some  amusing,  although 
not  very  profound,  criticism  upon  Milton's  epic. 

Macaulay 's  chapter  on  "  The  Puritans  "  and  Green's  Short 
History,  ch.  viii.,  should  be  read  for  information  on  the 
times. 

Milton's  Complete  Poetical  Works  are  published  in  the 
Cambridge  Edition  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company). 

III.  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LYRICS. 

Besides  Milton  there  was  no  great  poet  in  England 
during  the  period  of  civil  discord  attending  the  rise  of 
Puritanism  and  the  era  of  the   Commonwealth;    and 


200        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

yet  there  were  not  a  few  who  laid  claim  to  the  title  of 
"  poet,"  and  some  whose  contributions  to  English  verse 
are  far  from  unimportant. 

A  peculiar  phase  of  the  poetical  art  is  found  in  the 
TheMeta-  compositions  of  a  little  group  of  versifiers 
physical       wh0    are   frequently  described  as  the    meta- 

Poets. 

physical  p>oets.  First  in  point  of  time  was 
John  Donne,  who  appears  to  have  been  the  leader  of 
John  ^he  school.     Reared  a  Catholic,  he  later  joined 

Donne,         the    Anglican     Communion,    and    became    a 

clergyman  in  1615.  In  1621  he  was  made 
Dean  of  St.  Paul's.  His  early  verse  was  amatory  and 
passionate ;  his  later  productions  were  religious  and 
devotional.  His  style  was  later  described  aptly  by 
Dryden,  who  declared  that  Donne  was  "  the  greatest 
wit,  though  not  the  best  poet  of  our  nation."  The 
word  wit  was  here  used,  as  generally  at  the  close  of  the 
seventeenth  century  and  the  beginning  of  the  eight- 
eenth, to  denote  a  clever  or  ingenious  writer  rather 
than  a  humorous  one,  and  was  applied  to  the  person 
as  well  as  to  the  element  essential  in  his  work.  It 
found  its  application  in  the  unusual  and  sometimes 
fantastic  turns  of  thought,  often  laboriously  conceived, 
that  distinguish  the  writings  of  Donne  and  his  school. 
George  "  Holy  George  Herbert,"  as  Izaak  Walton 
Herbert,        named  him,  was  one  of  the  best  examples  of 

1693-1632.  ,   .  \ 

this  group,  as  well  as  one  ot  its  most  impor- 
tant representatives.  In  his  lengthy  poem  of  good 
counsel,  entitled  The  Church  Porch,  for  example,  he 
has  this  to  say  :  — 

"  Drink  not  the  third  glasse  which  thou  canst  not  tame, 
When  once  it  is  within  thee  ;   hut  hefore 
May'sl  rule  it,  as  thou  list,  and  pour  the  shame, 
Which  it  would  pour  on  thee,  upon  the  floore. 
It  is  most  just  to  throw  that  on  the  around 
Which  would  throw  me  there,  if  I  keep  the  round." 


THE   METAPHYSICAL   POETS  201 

Again,  in  The  Sacrifice,  with  its  refrain  of  simple 
pathos,  we  are  surprised  by  more  than  one  conceit  as 
singular  as  this :  — 

"  Behold,  they  spit  on  Me  in  scornful  wise  ; 

Who  by  My  spittle  gave  the  blind  man  eyes, 
Leaving  his  blindness  to  Mine  enemies : 
Was  ever  grief  like  Mine  ?  " 

Because  of  this  grotesque  ingenuity  of  allusion  and 
comparison  the  term  metaphysical  was  used  of  these 
poets  by  Samuel  Johnson ;  and  by  this  title  they  are 
best  described. 

George  Herbert  was  in  seriousness  of  tone  and 
saintly  character  more  like  Milton  than  any  other  of 
the  writers  here  discussed.  He  was  born  in  Wales, 
and  received  his  university  training  at  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge.  In  1630  he  became. Vicar  of  Bemerton, 
near  Salisbury.  His  poetry  is  wholly  devotional.  It 
is  he  who  wrote  of  Sunday  the  familiar  lines :  — 

"  0  day  most  calm,  most  bright ! 
The  fruit  of  this,  the  next  world's  bud, 
The  indorsement  of  supreme  delight, 
Writ  by  a  Friend,  and  with  His  blood ; 
The  couch  of  time  ;  care's  balm  and  bay ; 
The  week  were  dark,  but  for  thy  light : 
Thy  torch  doth  show  the  way." 

Thorough  Royalists  in  their  attachments  were  the 
three  poets  Quarles,  Crashaw,  and  Vaughan.  Francis 
The  first  named  was    a   student   of   Christ's  i^-Tei-i. 
(Milton's)    College   at  Cambridge,  and  was  Richard 
later  secretary  to  Archbishop  Usher.     In  his  1613-49.' 
Divine  Emblems  he  produced  a  moralizing  ^ughan, 
poem  full  of  the  mannerisms  of  this  group.  1621-95. 
Richard    Crashaw,    the    son    of    an    Anglican    clergy- 
man, was  educated  at  the  Charterhouse  School  and  at 
Cambridge.    He  finally  became  a  Catholic,  and  during 
the  last  few  years  of  his  life,  through  the  influence  of 


202        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

Queen  Henrietta  Maria,  found  an  asylum  in  Italy. 
Crashaw  greatly  resembles  Herbert  in  thought  and 
manner.  A  line  from  one  of  his  Latin  poems,  descrip- 
tive of  the  miracle  at  Cana,  is  frequently  quoted  in 
devotional  literature :  — 

"  Nympha  pudica  Deum  vidit  et  erubuit" 

"  The  modest  water  saw  its  God  and  blushed." 

His  principal  volume  was  entitled  (by  its  editor) 
Steps  to  the  Temple  ;  it  appeared  in  1646. 

Henry  Vaughan  was  a  Welsh  physician  ;  he  pub- 
lished in  1650  a  collection  of  verse,  to  which  he  gave 
the  title  of  Silex  ScintUlans,  or  Sparks  from  the 
Flint.  His  work  also  shows  the  strong  influence  of 
his  countryman,  George  Herbert. 

Stoutly  Puritan  in  spirit  were  the  two  minor  poets 

Wither  and  Marvell.     The  former,  in  1642, 

wither,        sold  his  estate  to  raise  a  troop  of  horse  for 

1588-1667.  Cromwell's  army  ;  the  latter  had  attracted  the 

Andrew  J  ' 

Marveu,  attention  of  Cromwell,  and  was  employed  by 
him  up  to  the  time  of  his  death.  In  1657 
Marvell  was  appointed  assistant  to  Milton  in  the  Latin 
Secretaryship ;  and  this  association  with  the  great  poet 
has  made  his  name  more  familiar  than  his  verses  could 
have  done.  Marvell's  poems  were,  however,  distin- 
guished by  their  classic  flavor  and  by  a  very  real  appre- 
ciation of  nature,  —  a  quality  not  common  in  the  minor 
poetry  of  the  age.  They  were  written  for  the  most 
part  in  youth. 

Wither's  verse  is  mainly  devotional  in  character, 
consisting  of  The  Hymns  and  Songs  of  the  Church 
(1623),  a  translation  of  the  Psalms  of  David  (1631), 
Emblems  (1634),  and  Hallelujah  (1641).  A  fine  pas- 
toral poem,  Shepherds  Hunting  (1613),  was  the  work 
of  an  earlier  period. 


THE   CAVALIER  POETS  203 

A  singular  fate  has  overtaken  the  fame  of  Abraham 
Cowley,  who  was  esteemed  by  his  own  gen-  Abraham 
eration  the  greatest  of   English  poets.     He  Cowley, 

.  1618-67 

was  a  disciple  of  the  metaphysical  school,  and 
was  made  famous  by  the  ingenuity  of  his  verse  even 
in  boyhood.  His  first  volume  appeared  when  he  was 
but  fifteen ;  while  a  student  at  Cambridge  he  wrote 
the  larger  part  of  a  long  epic  on  King  David,  the 
Davideis,  which  he  hoped  would  inspire  the  composi- 
tion of  more  biblical  epics.  Cowley  was  attached  to 
the  Royalist  cause,  and  accompanied  Queen  Henrietta 
Maria,  in  capacity  of  secretary,  to  France.  He  was 
the  author  of  Plndarique  Odes,  in  imitation  of  the 
classic  poet,  and  of  a  series  of  love  poems  under  the 
title  of  The  Misfress.  Although  he  attained  the  dis- 
tinction of  a  burial  in  Westminster  Abbey,  Cowley's 
reputation  as  a  poet  began  to  wane  soon  after  his 
death,  and  he  has  since  occupied  a  minor  position 
among  the  poets  of  this  group. 

Three   or  four  of  the  minor  poets  of  this  age  fall 
naturally  into  a  group  by  themselves ;  these     .    _ 
are  the  representative  poets  of  the  Cavaliers,  lier Poets: 
Gay,  light-hearted  gentlemen,  gallant  in  both  carew, 
love  and  war,  fond  of  the  pretty  and  pleasing  1589-1639; 
rather  than  of    the    serious    and   impressive  suckling, 
phases   of   life's    experience,   they    produced  R^anf' 
some  dainty  and  charming  verse,  but  spent  Lovelace, 
their  talents  upon  trifling  themes  of  senti- 
ment and  pleasure.     "  Idle  singers  of  an  empty  day," 
their  activity  included  none  of  the  offices  of  prophet  or 
seer. 

Carew,  Suckling,  and  Lovelace  were  all  prominent 
in  the  court  of  Charles  I.,  and  are  sometimes  distin- 
guished by  the  name  of  the  Caroline  poets.  Charac- 
teristic of  their  songs,  which  still  display  the  artificial 


204  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

and  far-fetched  imagery  of  the  metaphysical  school,  are 
the  following-  stanzas  of  a  song  by  Carew  :  — 

"  Ask  me  no  more  where  Jove  bestows, 
When  June  is  past,  the  fading  rose, 
For  in  your  beauty's  orient  peep 
These  flowers,  as  in  their  causes,  sleep ! 


Ask  me  no  more  whither  doth  haste 
The  nightingale  when  May  is  past, 
For  in  your  sweet  dividing  throat 
She  winters  and  keeps  warm  her  note  ;  " 

and  so  forth.     It  was  Suckling  who  sang  merrily :  — 

"  Out  upon  it,  I  have  loved 
Three  whole  days  together ; 
And  am  like  to  love  three  more 
If  it  prove  fair  Aveather. 
Time  shall  moult  away  his  wings 
Ere  he  shall  discover 
In  the  whole  wide  world  again 
Such  a  constant  lover." 

His  lively  Ballad  upon   a    Wedding  is   one   of   the 

brightest  and  prettiest  of  the  graceful  compositions  of 

the    group.     His    description    of    the  bride    is    often 
quoted :  — 

"  Her  finger  was  so  small,  the  ring 
Would  not  stay  on  which  they  did  bring; 
It  was  too  wide  a  peck : 
And  to  say  truth  —  for  out  it  must  — 
It  looked  like  the  great  collar  —  just  — 
About  our  young  colt's  neck. 
Her  feet  beneath  her  petticoat, 
Like  little  mice,  stole  in  and  out. 
As  if  they  feared  the  light : 
But  oh  !  she  dances  such  a  way ! 
No  sun  upon  an  Easter  day 
Is  half  so  fine  a  sight." 

Lovelace   strikes    a  higher  note    in    his  verses    To 

Lucasta  on  Going  to  the  Wars :  — 

"  True,  a  new  mistress  now  I  chase, 
The  first  foe  in  the  field  ; 


ROBERT   HERRICK  205 

And  -with  a  stronger  faith  embrace 

A  sword,  a  horse,  a  shield. 

Yet  this  inconstancy  is  such 

As  you,  too,  shall  adore  : 

I  could  not  love  you,  dear,  so  much, 

Loved  I  not  honor  more." 

The  vigorous,  hearty  spirit  of  Herrick's  verse  still 
keeps  the  fame  of  that  lusty  poet  green.     He  Rolbert 
is  the  foremost  of  the  minor  writers  in  this  Herrick, 
seventeenth  century  group.     A  student  and 
fellow  at  the  University  of  Cambridge   for  fourteen 
years,  and  afterward  a  clergyman  in  a  quiet  vicarage  of 
Devon,  there  is  much  in  his  very  lively  verse  to  suggest 
other   than   the    studious    or   clerical    profession.     In 
spirit  Herrick  was  thoroughly  Elizabethan.     Corinna's 
Going  a-Maying  is  one  of  his  best  known  lyrics :  — 

"  Come,  let  us  goe,  while  we  are  in  our  prime, 
And  take  the  harmless  follie  of  the  time. 
We  shall  grow  old  apace  and  die 
Before  we  know  our  liberty." 

In  his  poem    To  the  Virgins  to  make  much  of  Time, 
Herrick  gives  this  advice  :  — 

"  Gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye  may : 
Old  time  is  still  a-flying  ; 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day 
To-morrow  will  be  dying. 
Then  be  not  coy,  but  use  your  time 
And  while  ye  may,  goe  marry ; 
For  having  lost  but  once  your  prime, 
You  may  forever  tarry." 

It  was  Herrick,  too,  who  described  his  verse  and, 
incidentally,  that  of  his  brother  minstrels  in  these 
lines :  — 

"  I  sing  of  brooks,  of  blossomes,  birds,  and  bowers ; 
Of  April,  May,  of  June,  and  July  flowers  ; 
I  sing  of  May-poles,  hock-carts,  wassails,  wakes ; 
Of  bridegrooms,  brides,  and  of  their  bridall-cakes." 

There  is  no  indication  in  his  writings   that  he  was 


206        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

moved  by  the  momentous  events  of  the  days  in  which 
he  lived.  There  is  much  of  the  "  joy  of  mere  living," 
and  a  frequent  turning  into  vulgar  sensuality.  His 
most  characteristic  poems  are  contained  in  his  Hesper- 
ides.  The  collection  entitled  Noble  Numbers  consists 
of  devotional  songs  on  the  subject  of  Christ's  birth  and 
passion. 

Edmund    Waller,    the    last    of    the    metaphysical 

poets,  was  a  Royalist,  like  most  of  the 
waller,         group  ;  but  he  served  the   Commonwealth  as 

readily  as  the  Crown,  and  his  reputation  is 
that  of  a  turncoat  and  a  coward.  Waller  was  master 
of  an  eloquent  tongue  and  a  lively  wit ;  he  was  distin- 
guished as  an  orator  and  a  versifier.  Having  indited 
a  famous  Panegyric  to  the  great  Oliver,  he  greeted 
Chax-les  II.  with  flattering  congratulation  Upon  His 
Majesty  s  Happy  Return.  When  the  king  called  the 
poet's  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  earlier  poem  was 
clearly  the  better  of  the  two,  Waller  at  once  replied, 
"  Poets,  sir,  succeed  better  in  fiction  than  in  truth." 

Waller's  favorite  verse  form  was  the  rhymed  couplet, 
which  appears  so  conspicuously  in  the  poetry  of  the 
succeeding  age.  His  influence  upon  the  next  great 
poet,  John  Dryden,  was  very  marked. 

IV.     THE    RESTORATION  :    BUNYAN,    DRYDEN. 

In  November,  1628,  while  John  Milton  was  about 
John  finishing  his  third  year  of  university  life  at 

Bunyan.  Cambridge,  John  Bunyan  was  born  at  El- 
stow,  a  village  in  Bedfordshire,  not  many  miles  from 
Cambridge  on  the  west.  There  was  a  sharp  contrast 
in  the  conditions  that  ruled  the  lives  of  these  two  men, 
and  yet  the  son  of  the  Elstow  tinker  was  destined  to 
find  a  place  in  literature  not  far  below  that  filled  by  the 
great  Puritan  poet  himself. 


JOHN   BUNYAN  207 

Bunyan's  school  days  were  few  and  unproductive. 
Such  school  training  as  he  gained  he  had  at 
the  Bedford  Grammar  School,  and  the  little 
he  learned  he  declares  that  he  soon  lost.  His  true  ed- 
ucation came  through  his  contact  with  men.  "  I  never 
went  to  school  to  Aristotle  or  Plato,"  he  writes ;  "  but 
was  brought  up  at  my  father's  house  in  a  very  mean 
condition,  among  a  company  of  poor  countrymen." 
Thomas  Bunyan,  the  father  of  John,  describes  himself 
as  a  "  braseyer."  There  was  a  forge  in  the  little  cot- 
tage occupied  by  him  and  his  family  at  Elstow,  and  at 
this  forge  John  Bunyan,  too,  was  taught  his  father's 
trade.  The  brazier,  or  tinker,  of  that  day  was  often 
upon  the  road,  a  not  unwelcome  visitant  at  the  isolated 
farms,  where  there  was  plenty  of  work  to  his  hand  in 
the  mending  of  utensils  and  tools.  Convivial  and  care- 
less in  their  habits,  these  men  usually  partook  of  the 
vagabond  type,  and  although  John  Bunyan  affirms  that 
he  was  never  a  drunkard  and  never  unchaste,  he  de- 
clares that,  even  as  a  child,  he  "  had  few  equals  in 
swearing,  lying,  and  blaspheming  the  holy  name  of 
God."  At  sixteen  years  of  age  Bunyan  became  a  sol- 
dier in  the  Civil  War.  It  is  not  altogether  certain  on 
which  side  he  served,  but  the  presumption  is  that  he 
was  drafted  into  Cromwell's  army,  and  that  he  fought 
under  the  leadership  of  Sir  Samuel  Luke,  the  promi- 
nent parliamentarian  of  Bedford,  the  reputed  original 
of  Butler's  Hudibras.  Bunyan's  military  career  was 
brief,  for  the  campaign  was  closed  at  Naseby,  some  six 
months  after  he  entered  the  army.  Occasional  re- 
minders of  this  period  are  to  be  found  in  Bunyan's 
works,  as  in  the  description  of  the  combat  with  Apol- 
lyon,  and  the  taking  of  the  town  of  Mansoul,  in  The 
Holy  War.  In  1646  Bunyan  resumed  his  trade  at  El- 
stow, and  two  or  three  years  later  he  married.     His 


'208  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

wife  was  a  pious  woman  as  poor  as  himself ;  her  dowry 
consisted  of  two  religious  books  then  popular,  —  The 
Plain  Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven  and  The  Practice  of 
Piety.  "  In  these,"  says  Bunyan,  "  I  should  sometimes 
read  with  her,  wherein  I  also  found  some  things  that 
were  somewhat  pleasing  to  me." 

The  next  four  years  of  Bunyan's  life  were  character- 
ized by  peculiar  mental  and   spiritual  experi- 
Reiigious      ences.     Intensely  sensitive  by  temperament, 
Experiences.  an(j  gifte(j  witn  an  imagination   abnormally 

active,  he  now  passed  through  a  period  of  religious  strug- 
gle so  vivid  and  so  acute  that  his  impressions  became 
realities;  their  effects  were  profound.  Most  of  the  indul- 
gences that  he  reckoned  sins  were  no  more  serious  than 
the  ringing  of  the  church  bells  and  participation  in  the 
dancing  and  other  Sunday  sports  upon  the  village  com- 
mon. But  these  amusements  were  looked  upon  by  the 
pious  Puritans  as  dangerous  vanities,  likely  to  distract 
the  soul  from  its  proper  aims,  and  therefore  frowned 
upon  and  rebuked  ;  and  so,  one  Sunday  while  engaged 
in  some  game  on  Elstow  Green,  he  tells  us,  "  A  voice 
did  suddenly  dart  from  Heaven  into  my  soul,  which 
said,  '  Wilt  thou  leave  thy  sins  and  go  to  Heaven,  or 
nave  thy  sins  and  go  to  Hell  ? '  At  this  I  was  put  to 
an  exceeding  maze.  Wherefore  I  looked  up  to  Heaven 
and  was  as  if  I  had  with  the  eyes  of  my  understand- 
ing seen  the  Lord  Jesus  looking  down  upon  me  as  being 
very  hotly  displeased  with  me."  One  morning,  going 
into  Bedford,  he  overheard  three  or  four  poor  women 
talking  together  by  a  cottage  door  in  the  sunshine. 
They  were  speaking  of  the  Christian  life,  and  again 
his  sensitive  conscience  was  stirred.  Once  more  he 
came  to  listen  to  the  women's  talk,  and  there  was  born 
in  him  "  a  great  softness  and  tenderness  of  heart,  and 
a  great  bending  in  his  mind  "  toward  holy  thoughts. 


IN  BEDFORD  JAIL  209 

Then  followed  a  long  experience  of  alternating  hope 
and  terror,  with  grotesque  temptations,  vivid  impres- 
sions as  of  voices,  sudden  visions,  moments  of  peace, 
seasons  of  gloom  and  despair.  At  last  John  Bunyan 
saw  a  great  light.  His  conversion  was  complete.  At 
once  he  joined  the  communion  of  Nonconformist  breth- 
ren at  Bedford,  and  some  years  later  became  the  pastor 
of  the  church. 

The  Restoration  period  brought  much  bitter  experi- 
ence to  the  English  Dissenters.     The  leaders  in  Bedford 
of  the  Established  Church,  in  revenge  for  their  Jail> 
previous  loss  of  privilege  under  the  severity  of  Puritan 
rule,  now,  under  Charles  II.,  sought  retaliation  in  stren- 
uous laws  against  the  Nonconformists.     The  holding 
of  conventicles,  as  the  public  meetings  of  Dissenters 
were  termed,  was  rigorously  forbidden,  and  many  were 
the  brethren  of  the  Pui'itan  faith  who  now  paid  by  im- 
prisonment  and  fine  the  penalty  of  meeting  for  public 
worship  in  the  manner   which  their   consciences   ap- 
proved.    The  converted  tinker  was  now  a  lay  preacher 
among  his  people,  and  so  conspicuous  had  he  become 
because  of  his  popularity  and  his  boldness  of  speech, 
that    he    was    almost  the    first    to   suffer  through  the 
intolerance  of  the  time.     On  the  12th  of  November, 
1660,  while  preaching  to  a  company  of  people  who  had 
gathered  in  a  small  hamlet   thirteen  miles  from  Bed- 
ford, Bunyan  was  arrested,  and  after  a  farcical  trial, 
which  he  has  unmistakably  described  in  the  account  of 
Faithful's  experience  at  Vanity  Fair,  he  was  thrown 
into  the  county  jail  at  Bedford,  and  for  twelve  years 
kept  a  prisoner,  sometimes   enjoying  a  degree  of  lib- 
erty,   but   for   the  most  part  under  strict  constraint. 
The  separation  from  his  wife  and  two  little  daughters, 
one  of  whom  was  blind,  he  deeply  felt.     But  he  would 
not  accept  liberty  at  the  price  of  a  promise  to  abstain 


210  FROM   BACON   TO   DRYDEN 

from  his  religious  work.  A  part  of  his  time  he  gave 
to  the  making  of  tagged  shoe-lacings  for  the  support 
of  his  family.  By  no  means  alone  in  his  prison,  he 
played  the  part  of  the  apostle,  and  was  a  pastor  to  those 
who  were  in  confinement  like  himself.  Some  of  Bun- 
yan's  sermons  thus  preached  found  their  way  into  print. 
During  his  imprisonment,  also,  he  wrote  many  tracts, 
among  them  The  Holy  City  (published  1665)  and  his 
Grace  Abounding  to  the  Chief  of  Sinners,  the  account 
of  his  own  conversion  (1666).  In  1672,  during  the 
brief  operation  of  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  Bun- 
yan  was  released,  and  now  was  formally  made  pastor 
of  the  Bedford  church.  But  in  the  early  part  of  1675, 
the  Declaration  having  been  suspended,  he  was  again 
arrested  and  confined  for  six  months  in  the  town  jail. 
During  this  second  imprisonment  it  was  that  this  un- 
lettered man  of  genius  wrote  his  immortal  allegory,  at 
least  in  part.  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  was  entered  in 
the  Stationers'  Register  under  date  of  December  22, 
1677,  and  appeared  in  print  early  in  1678,  not  quite  four 
years  after  Milton's  death.  The  immediate  popularity 
of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  no 
less  than  ten  editions  were  issued  up  to  1685.  In  1681 
it  was  printed  at  Boston,  and  the  following  year  an 
edition  appeared  at  Amsterdam.  Since  its  first  pub- 
lication it  has  been  translated  into  upwards  of  eighty- 
four  languages  and  dialects,  and  has  inspired  numerous 
imitations.  In  1680  Bunyan  published  The  Life  and 
Death  of  Mr.  Badman,  and  in  1682  The  Holy  War. 
The  second  part  of  Pilgrim's  Progress,  containing  the 
story  of  Christiania  and  her  children,  appeared  in  1684. 
During  the  last  years  of  his  life  John  Bunyan  was  a 

famous  man,  greatly  beloved  by  his  people. 

Whenever  he  preached  in  London,  the  church 
was  crowded  to  the  doors.     On  one  occasion  it  is  said 


PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  211 

that  he  was  half  pulled,  half  lifted  into  the  pulpit  over 
the  heads  of  the  throng.  He  was  noted  for  his  kind 
heart  and  his  works  of  mercy.  Upon  his  last  journey  to 
London  he  rode  many  miles  out  of  his  way  to  accom- 
plish the  reconciliation  of  a  father  and  son.  That  good 
errand  accomplished,  he  suffered  exposure  to  severe 
weather  on  resuming  his  journey,  which  resulted  in  a 
fever,  from  which  he  died  August  31, 1688,  in  London. 
His  published  works,  including  pamphlets  and  ser- 
mons, are  some  sixty  in  number. 

For  consistent  and  forceful  allegory  Bunyan's  work 
has    no    rival    in    modern    literature.     Says  Pilgrim's 
Macaulay :  — 

"  Bunyan  is  almost  the  only  writer  who  ever  gave  to  the 
abstract  the  interest  of  the  concrete.  In  the  work  of  many 
celebrated  authors,  men  are  mere  personifications.  We  have 
not  a  jealous  man,  but  jealousy  ;  not  a  traitor,  but  perfidy  ; 
not  a  patriot,  but  patriotism.  The  mind  of  Bunyan,  on  the 
contrary,  was  so  imaginative  that  personifications,  when  he 
dealt  with  them,  became  men." 

And  thus  the  characters  in  Bunyan's  dream  have 
found  a  permanent  place  in  the  world  of  letters.  Here 
for  example  is  Pliable,  who  goes  a  little  way  with 
Christian  on  his  pilgrimage  to  the  Celestial  City,  but 
having  fallen  into  the  Slough  of  Despond,  scrambles 
out  on  the  nearer  side  and  betakes  himself  homeward 
to  the  City  of  Destruction ;  and  here  is  Mr.  Talkative, 
who  delights  to  discourse  on  histories  and  mysteries, 
but  can  see  no  difference  between  crying  out  against 
«iu  and  abhorring  sin.  Then  comes  Mr.  By-ends  of 
Fair-speech,  who  has  always  had  the  luck  to  jump  in 
his  judgment  with  the  present  way  of  the  times,  who 
waits  for  wind  and  tide,  and  is  for  religion  when  he 
walks  in  his  golden  slippers  in  the  sunshine  and  with 
applause.     The  incidents  that  befall  the  pilgrims  on 


212        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

their  journey  are  subtly  imagined  and  very  sugges- 
tively described.  Such  is  the  fall  into  the  miry  slough 
because  of  Christian's  failure  to  see  the  steps  —  which 
are  God's  promises ;  the  false  guiding  of  Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman,  who  would  send  Christian  to  Legality's 
house  to  be  relieved  of  his  burden  ;  the  climbing  of 
Hill  Difficulty,  the  encounter  with  the  lions,  the  fierce 
combat  with  Apollyon  —  "  the  dreadfullest  sight,"  says 
the  dreamer,  "  that  ever  I  saw."  Bunyan's  picture  of 
Vanity  Fair  is  exceedingly  real,  and  so  is  his  account 
of  the  experience  in  Doubting  Castle,  in  the  power  of 
Giant  Despair.  Thus  does  Christian  pursue  his  pil- 
grimage with  occasional  seasons  of  joy  and  refresh- 
ment, as  in  the  House  Beautiful,  among  the  shepherds 
on  the  Delectable  Mountains,  and  amid  the  flowers  and 
pleasant  streams  of  Beulah  land ;  but  for  the  most 
part  contending  with  the  difficulties  and  perils  of  the 
road,  until  the  dark  and  bridgeless  river  has  been  safely 
crossed,  and  he  is  welcomed  with  the  ringing  of  bells 
and  the  blare  of  trumpets  into  the  Celestial  City.  It 
is  a  marvelous  panorama  of  the  Christian  life. 

Whence  did  this  man,  self-taught,  derive  the  power 
to  create  so  great  a  masterpiece  ?  The  answer  is  plain, 
but  none  the  less  touches  a  vital  point.  The  Bedford 
preacher  spoke  only  of  what  he  knew.  The  adventures 
of  Christian  and  of  Hopeful  had  been  his  own  ;  he  had 
even  entered  somewhat  into  the  martyrdom  of  Faith- 
ful. Nay,  more  ;  the  defects  and  vices  of  those  waver- 
ers  and  contentious  persons  who  were  met  with  on  the 
way  had  been  thorns  in  his  own  flesh,  and  again  here, 
he  knew  all  too  well  whereof  he  spoke.  Deprived  of 
the  advantages  of  the  schools,  he  had  studied  one  book 
until  he  knew  it  through  and  through ;  that  book  was 
the  English  Bible.  Not  only  had  he  absorbed  its  doc- 
trine, he  had  caught  something  of  its  very  style.    In  his 


THE 

Pilgrim's  Progrefs 

FROM 

THIS    WORLD, 

TO 

That  which  is  to  come : 

Delivered  under  the  Similitude  of  a 

DREAM 

Wherein  is  Difcovered, 

The  manner  of  his  fetting  ou  t, 

His  Dangerous  Journey;  Andfafe 
Arrival  at  the  Defired  Countrey. 

/  have  ufed  Similitudes \  Hof.  12.  10. 


By  John  Bunyan. 
ilicenCelianDCEnti:etiaccci?Dino:toi3D?t)er. 


LONDON, 

Printed  for  Nath.  Ponder  at  the  Peacock 
in  the  Poultrey  near  Cornhil>  1678. 


FACSIMILE   OF   TITLE-PAGE,    PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS, 
FIRST    EDITION 


214        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

hands  the  plain  vernacular  lost  all  vulgarity ;  indeed, 
it  took  on  the  tone  of  epic  dignity,  and  even  caught 
some  of  that  rhythmic  melody  that  gives  such  rare 
charm  to  the  King  James  version  of  the  Scriptures. 

"  As  I  walked  thro  the  wilderness  of  this  world,  I  lighted 
on  a  certain  place  where  was  a  Den  ;  and  I  laid  me  down  in 
that  place  to  sleep :  and  as  I  slept  I  dreamed  a  dream." 

Thus  out  of  his  own  experience  and  shrewd  insight  into 
human  nature,  with  the  eloquence  of  an  earnest  pur- 
pose and  of  a  simple,  unaffected  style,  he  set  forth 
these  picturesque  images  of  what  to  him  were  solemn 
realities ;  and  what  had  so  mightily  impressed  John 
Bunyan  has  been  recognized  as  true  by  men  and  women 
of  every  class  and  kind.1 

Richard  Baxter,  a  clergyman  in  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land,  though   in   heart   and  zeal   a  Puritan, 
Lesser  ,.    . 

Prose;  whose  religious   experience  was  in  some  re- 

Baxter,  spects  like  that  of  Bunyan,  was  the  author  of 
1615-91;       The   Saints'  Everlasting  Rest   (1649),  fa- 

Jeremy  „.       ,         ..  ..  a  v  ' 

Taylor,         miliar  by  title,  at  least,  even  to-day.     Jeremy 

Thomas7'  Taylor,  also  a  clergyman  in  the  Established 
Fuller,  Church,  a  staunch  Royalist,  was  the  author  of 

1608-61 

several  notable  works,  of  which  the  best  known 
arc  his  Hides  and  Exercises  of  Holy  Living  (1650) 
and  the  Rules  and  Exercises  of  Holy  Dying  (1651), 
called  "  the  choicest  classics  of  English  devotion." 
Their  author  was  termed  by  Coleridge  "  the  most  elo- 
quent of  divines."  "  Quaint "  Thomas  Fuller,  like 
Baxter  and  Taylor  an  Episcopal  clergyman,  was  fa- 
mous for  his  wit  as  well  as  for  his  wisdom.  He  wrote 
many  books,  including  a  Church  History  of  Britain 

1  S.c  John  Bunyan  :  His  Life,  Times,  and  Work,  by  John  Brown, 
Minister  of  the  Church  at  Banyan  Meeting,  Bedford  (Houghton,  Mifflin 
and  Company).  This  house  also  publishes  an  edition  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  which  contains  Macaulay's  Essay  on  Bunyan. 


THE   AGE   OF   DRYDEN  215 

(1655).  It  was  Fuller  who  described  negroes  as  "  im- 
ages of  God,  cut  in  ebony."  He  designed  an  epitaph 
for  himself,  "  Here  lies  Fuller's  earth." 

Most  familiar  of  all  the  lesser  names  of  this  group, 
and  dear  to  all  who  delight  in  the  fisherman's  IzaakWal. 
craft,  is  that  of  Izaak  Walton,  author  of  The  ton,  1593- 
Comj)leat  Angler  (1653),  a  book  full  of  the     683" 
beauty  and  crisp  freshness  of  nature,  and  the  influ- 
ences of  a  happy,  loving  character.     Lamb  said  of  it : 
"  It  breathes  the  very  spirit  of  innocence,  purity,  and 
simplicity  of  heart.  ...  It  would    sweeten   a   man's 
temper  at  any  time  to  read  it ;  it  would  Christianize 
every  discordant  angry  passion." 

In  1651  appeared  Hobbes's   Leviathan  (1651),  a 
philosophical  treatise  upon  the  State, — a  work  Thomas 
which  had  a  large  influence  upon  the  politi-  Hobbes, 
cal  ideas  of  the  century.     Mention  should  be   1588_1679- 
made  also  of  two  important  as  well  as    entertaining 
literary  productions    of   the    Restoration    period,    the 
diaries  of  Pepys  (variously  pronounced  Peps,  Samuel 
Peeps,  and  Pips)  and  Evelyn.     Pepys's  Di-  *|*** 
ary   covers   the   decade   of   1659-69.      The  1703. 
writer  was  Secretary  of  the  Admiralty,  and  lyn  1620. 
was  associated  with  the  people  prominent  in   1706- 
his  day.     His  Diary  is  more  personal  than   that  of 
Evelyn,  and  is  famous  for  its  quaint  frankness,  which 
records  the  most  confidential  matters  with  a  freedom 
and  flavor  that  are  most  amusing.     John  Evelyn  was 
a  wealthy  gentleman  of  Royalist  family,  and  set  forth 
a  deal  of  interesting  and  valuable  material  in  his  Di- 
ary, which  covers  the  years  1640-1704. 

During  the  period  which    intervened    between    the 
death  of  Milton  (1674)  and  the  close  of  the   The  Age 
century,  John  Dryden  held  the  foremost  place  of  Dryden. 
in  English  letters.     By  no  means  a  great  poet,  as  that 


216        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

term  is  used  to-day,  Dryden  was  intellectually  great, 
and  great  also  in  the  degree  of  influence  which  he  ex- 
erted upon  the  literature  of  his  generation.  In  many 
ways  he  embodied  the  spirit  of  his  age,  just  as  Milton 
embodied  the  spirit  of  Puritan  England.  Dryden  be- 
longed to  the  Restoration,  and  his  compositions  are 
amply  characteristic  of  the  temper  and  teaching  of 
the  time.  It  was  the  period  of  French  influence,  in 
both  morals  and  art.  The  demands  of  form  and  style 
were  recognized  and  emphasized  as  never  before.  The 
spirit  of  the  age  was  philosophical  and  critical  rather 
than  imaginative.  Genuine  emotion  was  reckoned  vul- 
gar ;  men  reasoned  rather  than  felt ;  they  were  skepti- 
cal rather  than  enthusiastic.  Infinite  pains  were  spent 
upon  composition,  and  an  elaborately  polished  style 
was  the  object  of  its  writers.  The  principles  of  the 
French  critic,  Boileau,  commended  themselves  to  Dry- 
den and  his  admirers ;  and  it  is  Boileau's  thought  that 
Dryden  has  paraphrased  in  these  lines  :  — 

"  Gently  make  haste,  of  labor  not  afraid  ; 
A  hundred  times  consider  what  you  've  said  ; 
Polish,  repolish,  every  color  lay, 
And  sometimes  add,  hut  oftener  take  away." 

Instead  of  glorious  bursts  of  imaginative  creation, 
such  as  illuminated  with  unequaled  splendor  the  age 
of  Elizabeth  and  James,  the  writers  of  the  new  school 
discussed  politics  and  ethics,  developed  the  satire  in 
verse  as  well  as  prose,  laid  the  foundation  of  the  mod- 
ern essay,  and  established  a  science  of  criticism  in  both 
art  and  morals.  The  age  was  inevitably  prosaic,  which 
is  not  saying  that  in  the  field  of  thought  it  was  not  a 
prolific  or  a  useful  age.  In  1671  Isaac  Newton  had 
announced  his  theory  of  light;  he  published  his 
JT>rinei}>ia  in  1687.  In  1690  appeared  Locke's  J?s- 
say   Concerning  the  Human  Understanding.     These 


JOHN   DRYDEN  21T 

were  epoch-making  works ;  they  were  not  products  of 
an  imaginative  people,  yet  they  are  entirely  expressive 
of  the  best  spirit  of  that  era.  The  drama  was  left  — - 
the  one  field  of  literary  art  in  which  the  imagina- 
tion still  held  sway ;  and  the  drama  was  viciously  im- 
moral —  the  public  mirror  in  which  the  shamelessness 
of  the  English  court  found  as  shameless  a  reflection. 
Here  also,  unfortunately  for  his  fame,  John  Dryden 
expressed  the  manners  of  his  age.  Among  the  plays 
of  the  Restoration  period  there  are  none  more  gross 
than  some  of  his.  With  reference  to  this  quality 
of  the  plays  Dryden  himself  said :  "  I  confess  my 
chief  endeavors  are  to  delight  the  age  in  which  I  live. 
If  the  humor  of  this  be  for  low  comedy,  small  acci- 
dents, and  raillery,  I  will  force  my  genius  to  obey  it, 
though  with  more  reputation  I  could  write  in  verse,"  — 
an  avowal  that  may  explain,  although  it  by  no  means 
excuses,  the  fault.  It  should  be  said  that  this  was  the 
only  form  of  literature  that  had  immediate  market 
value,  and  Dryden  was  dependent  on  his  pen. 

John  Dryden  was  born  at  Aid  winkle,  a  village  in 
Northamptonshire,  August  9, 1631.     He  stud- 
ied at  Westminster,  and  became  a  student  of   den,  1631- 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  where  he  took 
his  decree  in  1654.     He  attained  no  distinction  while  at 
the  University,  and  seems  not  to  have  cherished  much 
affection  for  his  Alma  Mater.     When  Cromwell  died  in 
1658,  Dryden,  then  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  wrote 
some  commonplace  verse  extolling  the  virtues  of  the 
great  Protector,  and  two  years  later  celebrated  the  ad- 
vent   of  Charles  in  his  poem   Astrcea  Redux.     This 
sudden  change  of  sentiment,  however,  is  not  altogether 
derogatory  to  the  poet,  for  many,  even  pronounced  par- 
tisans of  Oliver,  looked  upon  the  return  of  the  Stuarts 
as  the  only  road  to  England's  security  and  peace.     In 


218        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

1663  Dryden  began  to  write  plays  for  the  London 
stage,  and  signed  a  contract  to  supply  a  stated  number 
annually  for  a  term  of  years.  During  this  period  he 
wrote  twenty-eight  plays.  His  tragedies,  or  "  heroical 
plays,"  were  better  than  his  comedies,  in  dramatic 
merit  as  well  as  moral  flavor.  Of  these  The  Indian 
Emperor  (1667)  and  The  Conquest  of  Granada 
(1672)  are  notable.  In  1666  he  produced  a  very  long 
and  somewhat  curious  poem  of  304  four-line  stanzas 
entitled  Annus  Mirabilis,  celebrating  the  English  vic- 
tories over  the  Dutch  fleet,  and  describing  the  great  fire 
of  London,  the  most  sensational  event  of  this  "wonder- 
ful year."  But  Dryden's  power  was  first  truly  shown 
in  his  political  satire  Absalom  and  Achitophel  (1681). 
This,   tbe  keenest  of  all  political  satires  and  most 

elegant,    was    directed    against    the    Earl    of 
Absalom  &  ° 

and  Shaftesbury,  who  had  plotted  to  secure  the 

Achitophel.  succession  for  the  Duke  of  Monmouth.  The 
latter,  an  illegitimate  son  of  King  Charles  II.,  was 
loved  by  the  king  and  honored  with  many  titles. 
Misguided,  however,  by  the  earl,  Monmouth  organized 
the  rebellion  which  resulted  in  his  downfall.  Dryden 
seized  upon  the  parallelism  between  the  career  of 
this  pretender  and  that  of  Absalom  as  recorded  in 
2  Samuel,  and  applies  the  parallel  in  remarkable 
detail.  Shaftesbury  is  Achitophel,  Buckingham  is 
Zimri,  Cromwell  is  referred  to  as  Saul,  and  all  the 
prominent  nobles  are  to  be  recognized  under  Jewish 
names  of  David's  time.  For  us  some  of  the  serious- 
ness of  the  satire  is  lost  by  the  presentation  of  the  dis- 
solute monarch  as  King  David,  and  by  the  application 
of  the  name  Bathsheba  to  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth, 
his  most  notorious  mistress.  The  portraitures  of 
Shaftesbury  and  Buckingham  are  unsurpassed,  and 
are  often  quoted.     Of  the  first  Dryden  says :  — 


DIDACTIC   VERSE  219 

"  A  daring  pilot  in  extremity ; 
Pleased  with  the  danger  when  the  waves  ran  high 
He  sought  the  storms ;  but  for  a  calm  unfit, 
Would  steer  too  nigh  the  sands  to  boast  his  wit. 


In  friendship  false,  implacable  in  hate, 
Resolved  to  ruin  or  to  rule  the  state." 


A  second  satire,  The  Medal,  was  directed  at  Shaftes- 
bury (1682),  while  MacFlecknoe  (1682)  served  to  pil- 
lory Thomas  Shadwell,  an  inferior  poet  but  a  rival, 
who  had  replied  in  satire  to  TJie  Medal. 

In  1688  Shadwell  succeeded  Dryden  as  poet  laureate. 

In  1682   Dryden    published    his    Rellgio  Laid,  or 
Layman 's  Faith,  a  defense  of  the  Episcopal  DiaaotiC 
Church  against  both  Catholic   and  Noncon-  Verse, 
formist.     The  poem  opens  with  a  fine  analysis  of  rea- 
son :  — 

"  Dim  as  the  borrowed  beams  of  moon." 

Five  years  later  the  poet  had  himself  turned  Catholic, 
and  in  the  Hind  and  the  Panther  (1687)  defended  the 
claims  of  Romanism  more  earnestly  than  he  had  argued 
the  former  cause.  The  Church  of  Rome  is  figured  in 
the  Milk-  White  Hind  "  immortal  and  unchanged,'' 
while  the  Church  of  England  is  represented  by 

"  The  Panther,  sure  the  noblest,  next  the  Hind, 
And  fairest  creature  of  the  spotted  kind." 

Dryden  had  been  made  laureate  in  1670.  With  the 
advent  of  William  and  Mary  in  1688,  the  poet  lost  his 
office  and  his  pension,  but  did  not  renounce  his  Catho- 
lic creed.  Indeed,  though  Dryden  had  changed  his 
politics  and  his  religion  at  times  so  conspicuously  apt 
as  to  arouse  suspicions  of  his  sincerity,  there  is  reason 
to  believe  that  in  both  he  was  honest.  Certainly  he 
did  not  turn  back  in  the  face  of  positive  loss,  as  did 
many  of  his  contemporaries  who  ebbed  with  the  tide. 

During  the  last  ten  years  of  the  poet's  life  he  em- 
ployed his  talents  largely  in  translation,  turning  into 


220        FROM  BACON  TO  DRYDEN 

brilliantly  polished  heroic  couplets  the  tales  of  Ovid 
and  of  Homer,  the  /Satires  of  Juvenal  and  Persius,  and 
the  ^Eneid  of  Vergil  entire.  Dry  den's  Vergil  is  one 
of  the  great  translations ;  it  added  much  to  his  fame. 
He  also  paraphrased  three  of  Chaucer's  Canterbury 
Tales,  —  Palamon  and  Arcite,  The  Cock  and  the  Fox, 
and  The  Wife  of  Battis  Tale.  A  study  of  these 
rhymed  couplets,  perfect  as  they  are,  with  such  origi- 
nals as  Chaucer  and  Vergil,  will  explain  sufficiently 
why  the  term  artificial  is  applied  to  the  work  of  Dry- 
den  and  his  school. 

Among  the  minor  poems  but  two  are  noted,  Alex- 
ander's Feast,  an  Ode  in  Honor  of  St.  Cecilia's  Day 
(1667)  and  A  Sotig  for  St.  Cecilia's  Day  (1687). 
Both  contain  some  striking  examples,  frequently  quoted, 
of  the  correspondence  of  sound  and  sense. 

Among  his  contemporaries  Dryden's  authority  was 
supreme.  To  them  he  was  "  glorious  John  ;  "  and  he 
held  his  little  court  at  Will's  Coffee-House,  where  men 
of  letters  were  accustomed  to  resort.  His  influence 
dominated  the  literature  of  the  next  fifty  years,  and  the 
rhymed  couplet  was  the  established  form  of  English 
verse  until  the  time  of  Gray.  In  his  prose  Dryden 
was  as  brilliant  as  in  verse,  and  his  numerous  pre- 
faces and  arguments  are  worthy  of  a  place  among  our 
classics. 

Of  the  character  of  his  genius  Lowell  has  this  to 
say  in  his  essay  on  the  poet :  "  To  read  him  is  as  bra- 
cing as  a  northwest  wind.  He  blows  the  mind  clear. 
In  mind  and  manner  his  foremost  quality  is  energy.  In 
ripeness  of  mind  and  bluff  heartiness  of  expression  he 
takes  rank  with  the  best.  I  lis  phrase  is  always  a  short- 
cut to  his  sense.  .  .  .  He  had  beyond  most  the  gift  of 
the  right  word.1  " 

1  Riverside  Edition  of  LoweWs  Works  (Prose),  vol.  iii.  p.  189. 


SAMUEL  BUTLER 


221 


Dryden  died  May  1,  1700,  and  was  buried  with  the 

poets  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

The   publication   of  the   first   part  of  JIudibras  in 

1663  brought  literary  fame  to  Samuel  Butler.   _ 

&  J  Samuel 

This    long   poem,    completed    in   1678,  is    a  Butler, 
coarse    but   exceedingly   witty    burlesque    of 
the  Puritan  cause  and  character.    Some  of  its  pungent 
lines  are  now  familiar  quotations,  the  source  of  which 
has  long  been  forgotten  ;  for  example,  — 

"  He  that  complies  against  his  will 
Is  of  the  same  opinion  still." 

"  Look  hefore  you  ere  you  leap." 

Butler  is  thought  to  have  taken,  as  the  original  of  his 
caricature,  the  person  of  Sir  Samuel  Luke,  a  stout- 
hearted, valiant  Puritan  squire  living  near  Bedford. 
This  gentleman,  in  whose  household  Butler  was  at  one 
time  a  clerk,  commanded  the  Parliamentary  forces 
raised  in  that  vicinity,  and  in  all  probability  was  the 
officer  under  whom  John  Bunyan  performed  military 
service. 

A  REVIEW  OF  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY  LITERATURE. 


The  Rulers. 

Pkose. 

Poetry. 

James  I. 

Bacon  (1561-1626). 

Milton  (1608-74). 

(1603-25). 

Novum  Organum  (1620). 

Lycidas  (1637). 

Charles  I. 

Final  edition  of  Essays 

Paradise  Lost  (1658-65). 

(1625-49). 

(1625). 

Herbert  (1593-1632). 

Commonwealth. 

Burton  (1577-1640). 

Herrick  (1591-1674). 

(1649-60). 

Anatomy  of  Melancholy 

Waller  (1605-87). 

Charles  II. 

(1621). 

Butler  (1612-80). 

(1660-85). 

Browne  (1605r82). 

Hudibras  (1663). 

James  II. 

Religio  Medici  (1643). 

Dryden  (1631-1700). 

(1685-88). 

Hohbes's  Leviathan 

Absalom  and  Achitophel 

William  and  Mary 

(1651). 

(1681). 

(1689-1702). 

Walton's    Compleat    An- 
gler (1653). 

Bunyan  (1628-88). 
Pilgrim''  sProgress  (1678) . 

Laureate  (1670-88). 

CHAPTER  V 

THE    EIGHTEENTH    CENTURY 

FROM    ADDISON   TO    BURNS 

I.  The  Augustan  Age  of  English  Prose. 
II.  The  Poetry  of  Alexander  Pope. 

III.  The  Rise  of  the  English  Novel. 

IV.  Essayists  of  the  Second  Half. 

V.  The  Romantic  Movement  in  English  Poetry. 

I.    THE   AUGUSTAN   AGE   OP   ENGLISH   PROSE. 
The  general  characteristics  of  English  literary  and 
social  life  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century 
were  the  natural  development  of  conditions  immedi- 
ately following  the   period  of  the   Restoration.     The 
influence  of  John   Dryden  was  a  noticeable  force  in 
letters  throughout  the  first  half  of  the  century.   French 
models,  as  interpreted  by  him,  and  French  ideals  of 
literary  style  were  affected  by  the  poets  and  dramatists 
who  followed  in  his  wake.     An  unwise  attempt  to  imi- 
tate the  methods  of  Greek  and  Roman  classic  writers 
was  accompanied  by  a  natural  deterioration  in  original- 
ity and  in  real  creative  power.     Because  of  these  con- 
ditions  the    period    is    sometimes    designated    as   the 
Period  of  French  Influence,  the  poets  are    described 
as  belonging  to  the  classic  school,  and  their  work  is 
often  characterized  as  representing  the  Artificial  age 
in  English  verse. 

The  eighteenth  century  was  an  age  in   which  men 
measured  and  investigated  rather  than  dreamed,  and 


POLITICS  223 

while    poetry    lost    much    of  its  spontaneity    and    im- 
agination,  it  gained  in  correctness    of   form 
&  i  -i  i  The  Prose, 

and  finish  —  an  element  not  without  value  in 

its  later  development.  On  the  other  hand,  the  devel- 
opment of  English  prose  during  this  century  is  truly 
remarkable.  The  easy,  graceful  style  of  Steele  and 
Addison,  admirably  suited  to  the  pleasant  narrative 
form  of  the  essay  which  they  introduced,  the  terse, 
incisive  keenness  of  Swift's  satire,  the  elaborate,  pol- 
ished phrase  of  Johnson's  later  prose,  the  clear,  ade- 
quate English  of  Hume,  the  eloquent  imagery  of 
Gibbon  and  Burke  —  these  are  features  which  give 
distinction  to  the  literature  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
and  should  be  recognized  as  no  inglorious  accomplish- 
ment. We  sometimes  speak  slightingly  of  this  "  age 
of  prose ; "  but  it  should  be  remembered  that  prose,  as 
truly  as  verse,  is  an  artistic  creation,  and  that  the 
lucid  force  of  our  best  English  style  has  been  acquired 
only  by  stages  of  growth,  in  the  course  of  which  the 
achievement  of  these  eighteenth  century  writers  is  as 
essential  as  it  was  remarkable.  The  application  to  this 
period  of  yet  another  term  —  that  of  the  Augustan 
age  —  is  therefore  not  without  appropriate  significance. 
Perhaps  the  student  has  noted  already  the  active 
participation  in  public  affairs  of  many  of  the  Politlcs 
great  writers  in  preceding  centuries  ;  of  those 
prominent  in  the  age  of  Anne  the  same  is  true.  The 
reign  of  Anne  is  famous  for  the  growth  of  party  organ- 
ization and  party  influence.  Ever  since  the  days  of 
the  Commonwealth,  the  people  and  their  popular  lead- 
ers are  recognized  as  more  and  more  important  factors 
in  the  disposition  of  public  affairs.  Political  contro- 
versy and  party  spirit  rose  higher  and  higher,  but  the 
tone  of  their  expression  in  literature,  while  bitter 
enough  in  the  satires  of  Swift,  was  by  no  means  so 


224  FROM   ADDISON  TO   BURNS 

abusively  personal  as  in  those  of  Dryden  ;  and  there 
was  nothing  at  all  corresponding  to  the  brutality  ex- 
hibited in  the  literary  battles  of  Puritan  and  Cavalier. 
Argument  rather  than  abuse  became  the  weapon  of 
attack ;  wit  superseded  malicious  vulgarity,  and  men 
aimed  to  be  polite  —  at  least  in  form  of  expression  — 
even  in  the  heat  of  debate. 

Koyalists  and  Independents  were  now  distinguished 
Partie  ^v  other  party  names.     Those  who  supported 

the  old  principles  of  the  Stuarts,  in  behalf  of 
the  royal  prerogative  and  the  supreme  authority  of  the 
Established  Church,  were  known  as  Tories  ;  while  those 
who  championed  the  more  liberal  policy  of  constitu- 
tional government  and  maintained  the  right  of  dissent 
were  known  as  Whigs.  The  Eevolution  of  1688, 
which  sent  James  II.  into  exile  and  established  a  Pro- 
testant government  under  William  of  Orange  and 
Mary,  the  elder  daughter  of  James,  was  a  victory  for 
the  Whigs.  In  1702,  upon  the  death  of  William,  who 
survived  his  consort  by  eight  years,  the  succession  fell 
on  Anne,  second  daughter  of  James.  Anne  began  her 
reign  under  Tory  influences,  which  were  afterward 
modified  by  the  vigor  of  the  Whigs.  The  prosecution 
of  the  French  campaigns  under  the  leadership  of  Anne's 
great  general,  Marlborough,  formed  a  prolific  subject 
for  party  contention.  The  literature  of  the  period  is 
distinctly  colored  by  these  events ;  indeed  the  allusions 
are  so  numerous  that  much  of  that  literature  is  unintel- 
ligible without  a  knowledge  of  the  conditions  just 
described. 

The  manners  of  the  age  were  coarse,  and  moral 
„  standards  still  suffered,  at  the  beefinninc:  of 

Morals.  &  b 

the  century,  from  the  degrading  influences 
of  the  period  preceding;  but  the  literature  of  this 
centupy  is  far  from  being  immoral.   The  frankness  and 


ADDISON  225 

realism  that  characterize  it  should  be  interpreted  in  the 
light  of  its  obvious  purpose  to  inform  and  to  correct. 
All  the  essayists  were  moralists,  looking  upon  life  with 
a  pleasant  perception  of  its  humors  as  well  as  of  its 
frailties.  Quite  in  the  spirit  of  Chaucer  they  satirized 
its  follies  and  rebuked  its  faults.  It  is  a  proof  of  their 
sincerity  that  they  introduced  a  respect  for  virtue  and 
roused  society  to  an  appreciation  of  better  things.  The 
new  position  of  woman  intellectually  is  most  notewor- 
thy. Literature  now  paid  respect  to  her  interests  and 
tastes.  The  essays  of  Addison  and  Steele  were  ad- 
dressed as  directly  to  women  as  to  men,  and  the  first 
novels  of  Richardson  were  planned  primarily  for  their 
benefit.  Before  the  century  closed,  women,  too,  had 
learned  how  to  write,  and  had  found  a  place  in  litera- 
ture for  themselves. 

The  names  of  Addison  and  Steele  are  naturally  as- 
sociated by  reason  of  their  literary  partner-  josepll 
ship    in  the  publication  of    the    Toiler   and  Addison, 
the  Spectator.     They  were  comrades  in  their  1719. 
school  days ;  both  were,  during  the  same  pe-  g^" 
riod,  pupils  in  the  old  Charterhouse  School   1672- 
in  London,  and  for  three  or  four  years  saw 
each  other  at  Oxford,  although  not  members  of  the 
same  college.     The  graceful,  polished  style  of  Addison, 
the  genial  temper  and  easy  naturalness  of  Steele  — 
these  qualities  combined  to  introduce  an  entirely  new 
form  of  composition,  which  greatly  increased  the  at- 
tractive charm  of  our  English  prose.     To  the  talents 
of  these  two  men  we  owe  the  beginning  of  the  light, 
familiar  essay. 

Joseph  Addison  was  born  at  Milston,  in  Wiltshire, 
the  son  of  the  rector,  Lancelot  Addison,  who 
afterward  became  Dean  of  Lichfield.     After 
taking  his  master's  degree  at  Oxford  in  1693,  the  young 


226  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

man  began  his  literary  career  with  a  poem  addressed 
to  Dryden ;  and  in  the  following  year  published  a  ver- 
sified Account  of  the  Greatest  English  Poets,  interest- 
ing- as  a  youthful  essay,  in  which  Dryden  is  justly 
praised,  Spenser  depreciated,  and  Shakespeare  not  even 
mentioned.  In  1695  Addison  addressed  a  complimen- 
tary poem  to  King  William,  which  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Whig  leaders  and  opened  the  road  to  a 
political  career  by  way  of  literature.  Four  years  there- 
after the  poet  was  granted  a  pension  of  <£300,  and,  at 
the  suggestion  of  the  Government,  went  to  the  Continent 
to  enlarge  his  experience  by  travel.  Having  visited 
France,  Italy,  Germany,  Austria,  and  Holland,  he  re- 
turned home  in  1703,  recalled  by  the  fall  of  the  Whig 
party  at  the  accession  of  Anne.  A  poetical  Letter 
from  Italy,  addressed  to  Lord  Halifax,  gave  Addison 
some  repute  as  a  poet,  and,  incidentally,  prepared  the 
way  for  a  subsequent  and  more  ambitious  effort. 

Through  the  turn  in  his  fortune  caused  by  the  political 
The  Cam-  situation,  Addison  found  himself  in  extreme 
paign.  financial  difficulties.     He  occupied  a  garret 

up  three  flights  of  stairs  in  the  Hay  market.  But  in 
1704  occurred  the  notable  victory  of  Anne's  great  gen- 
eral, Marlborough,  at  Blenheim  ;  and  in  celebration  of 
that  victory,  Addison,  through  the  good  offices  of  Lord 
Halifax,  was  commissioned  to  prepare  an  appropriate 
poem.  Thus  came  his  first  actual  success,  The  Cam- 
paign. A  particular  passage  in  this  poem,  exalting 
the  generalship  of  Marlborough,  closed  with  a  compar- 
ison which  made  the  poet  famous  :  — 

"  So  when  an  angel  by  divine  command, 
With  rising  tempests  shakes  the  guilty  land 
(Such  as  of  late  o'er  pale  Britannia  passed), 
Calm  and  serene  he  drives  the  furious  blast ; 
And.  pleased  the  Almighty's  orders  to  perform. 
Rides  in  the  whirlwind,  and  directs  the  storm.'' 


STEELE  227 

Says  Thackeray :  — 

"  Addison  left  off  at  a  good  moment.  That  simile  was 
pronounced  to  be  of  the  greatest  ever  produced  in  poetry. 
That  angel,  that  good  angel,  flew  off  with  Mr.  Addison,  and 
landed  him  in  the  place  of  commissioner  of  appeals  —  vice 
Mr.  Locke,  providentially  promoted.  In  the  following  year, 
Mr.  Addison  went  to  Hanover  with  Lord  Halifax,  and  the 
year  after  was  made  under-secretary  of  state."  * 

Addison's  public  services  were  rendered  mainly  by  his 
pen.  He  afterward  entered  Parliament,  but  on  account 
of  diffidence  rose  to  speak  but  once,  and  then,  without 
speaking,  abruptly  sat  down  again. 

Richard  Steele,  in  many  points  the  direct  opposite 
of  his  friend,  was  born  in  Dublin,  the  son  of 
an  English  attorney,  secretary  to  the  lord- 
lieutenant  of  Ireland.  Left  to  the  care  of  an  uncle  by 
the  death  of  both  parents,  while  Steele  was  yet  a  child, 
he  was  placed  at  the  Charterhouse  School,  and  sent  to 
the  University  in  1692.  His  impulsive  temper  was 
exhibited  three  years  later,  when  he  suddenly  left  Ox- 
ford and  enlisted  as  a  private  in  the  Horse  Guards. 
He  was  soon  promoted  to  a  captaincy,  but  resigned  his 
commission,  and,  through  Addison's  influence,  was  ap- 
pointed official  gazetteer,  with  a  salary  of  X300.  Im- 
provident but  good-humored  and  light-hearted,  "  Dick  " 
Steele,  as  he  is  still  affectionately  called,  is  one  of  the 
universally  attractive  characters  in  English  literature. 
It  is  indicative  of  his  passing  moods  that  while  under 
confinement  for  dueling  in  1701,  he  wrote  a  manual 
of  devotion  entitled  The  Christian  Hero,  and  when 
disturbed  by  the  coolness  with  which  his  effort  was  re- 
ceived by  his  associates,  he  wrote  two  or  three  indiffer- 
ent comedies  to  counteract  the  serious  impression.  He 
also  gave  some  time  to  the  search  for  the  "  philosopher's 
1  Thackeray,  English  Humourists. 


228  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

stone."  Macaulay,  in  his  Essay  on  Addison,  states  the 
case  vigorously,  but  not  without  truth.  Steele,  he 
says, 

"  was  one  of  those  people  whom  it  is  impossible  either  to 
hate  or  to  respect.  His  temper  was  sweet,  his  affections 
warm,  his  spirits  lively,  his  passions  strong,  and  his  princi- 
ples weak.  His  life  was  spent  in  sinning  and  repenting ; 
in  inculcating  what  was  right,  and  doing  what  was  wrong. 
In  speculation  he  was  a  man  of  piety  and  honor  ;  in  practice 
he  was  much  of  the  rake,  and  a  little  of  the  swindler." 

In  1709  was  launched  the  enterprise  which  brought 
Periodical  Ul^°  a°tive  expression  the  characteristic  tal- 
Literature.  ents  of  both  Steele  and  Addison.  Steele  be- 
gan the  publication  of  the  Tatler.  While  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  little  sheet  was  indeed  something  of  a 
novelty  to  readers  of  that  day,  Steele's  venture  was  by 
no  means  the  first  in  periodical  literature.  During  the 
period  of  the  Civil  War  preceding  the  Commonwealth, 
the  heated  controversies  of  the  time  gave  rise  to  a  large 
number  of  weekly  publications  representing  the  differ- 
ent sides.  In  1663  the  Government  determined  to  mo- 
nopolize the  right  to  publish  news,  and  established  a 
journal  called  The  Public  Intelligencer,  which  gave 
place  to  The  Oxford  Gazette,  and  this,  in  turn,  to 
The  London  Gazette  in  1666.  The  office  of  gazet- 
teer became  a  regular  ministerial  appointment,  and  it 
was  to  the  control  of  this  journal  that  Steele  was  him- 
self appointed,  at  Addison's  suggestion,  in  1705.  In 
1702  The  Daily  Oourant  was  established.  It  ran  for 
thirty  years,  and  perhaps  deserves  the  distinction  of 
being  the  first  real  newspaper  in  England.  That  re- 
markably industrious  and  versatile  writer,  Daniel  De- 
foe, entered  the  field  with  his  little  Review  2  in  1704. 

1  See  page  268. 


PERIODICAL   LITERATURE 


229 


This  publication  was  not  merely  political  in  its  scope, 
but  included  news  items,  articles  suggested  by  them, 
and  occasional  essays.  There  was  one  department  con- 
ducted under  the  head  of  The  Scandalous  Club ;  and 


SCENE    IN    A    TYPICAL    ENGLISH    COFFEE-HOUSE 
From  the  heading  of  an  old  Broadside  of  1674. 

this  feature  of  Defoe's  Review,  together  with  the  es- 
says on  themes  of  popular  interest,  undoubtedly  sup- 
plied the  hint  which  brought  the  Tatler,  the  Sjiec- 
tator,  and  numerous  similar  publications  into  the  field. 
At  the  date  when  Steele  brought  out  his  Tatler  there 
were  at  least  a  dozen  newspapers,  so-called,  appearing 
in  London  regularly  on  post  days,  which  were  Tues- 


230  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

days,  Thursdays,  and  Saturdays,  and  half  that  num- 
ber published  on  the  alternate  days  of  the  week. 

There  was  another  feature  in  the  social  life  of  this 
The  coffee-  period  as  intimately  related  to  the  essay 
Houses.  writing  of  Steele  and  Addison  as  was  the  ex- 
istence of  this  periodical  literature  ;  this  was  the  insti- 
tution of  the  London  coffee-house.  In  1652  coffee  was 
first  introduced  into  England  as  a  beverage  of  common 
use,  and  houses  of  public  entertainment  where  coffee 
was  dispensed  became  the  common  places  of  resort  for 
masculine  society.  According  to  one  authority  there 
were  three  thousand  coffee-houses  in  England  in  1708, 
when  Steele  was  beginning  to  plan  for  the  issue  of  his 
little  paper.  Some  of  these  resorts  filled  the  place  of 
the  modern  club.  In  London,  men  of  affairs  thronged 
the  coffee-houses  daily,  so  that  these  became  the  com- 
mon exchanges  of  news,  and  also  of  ideas.  Among 
those  oftenest  mentioned  were  Garraway's,  where  tea 
was  first  retailed  ;  the  Jerusalem,  one  of  the  earliest  of 
all  the  news  rooms ;  Jonathan's,  the  resort  of  the  bro- 
kers in  'Change  Alley ;  Lloyds',  the  precursor  of  the 
noted  exchange  for  marine  intelligence,  and  headquar- 
ters for  marine  insurance  at  the  present  day ;  Tom's, 
in  Cornhill;  Dick's,  and  Will's.  At  this  last-named 
house  it  was  customary  for  men  of  literary  tastes  and 
professional  men  to  gather ;  here  John  Dry  den  had  oc- 
cupied the  seat  of  honor  in  his  day,  having  his  chair 
placed  on  the  balcony  in  summer,  and  in  winter  occu- 
pying the  warmest  nook  in  the  room.  Pope  was 
brought  thither  when  a  child,  that  he  might  at  least 
look  on  the  great  man  and  hear  him  speak.  Swift  and 
Addison,  as  well  as  Steele,  were  frequent  guests.  Cur- 
rent gossip  of  the  bookshops  and  the  theatres  circu- 
lated among  its  stalls.  Students  from  the  universities, 
clergymen   in   gown  and  cassock,   scribblers  of  many 


THE   COFFEE-HOUSES  231 

ranks,  thronged  the  rooms,  blue  with  tobacco  smoke, 
where  they  chatted  and  listened  by  turns.  It  was  in 
this  very  atmosphere  that  the  Tatler  was  born  ;  the 
tone  of  easy  familiarity,  the  vivacious  wit,  the  ready 
omniscience  of  the  coffee-house  oracle  —  all  were  plea- 
santly infused  by  Steele  into  the  pages  of  his  genial 
Tatler,  and  by  both  writers  into  the  Spectator  after- 
ward. Both  papers  abound  in  allusions  to  these  re- 
sorts. Steele's  first  number,  in  outlining  the  plan  o{ 
the  new  periodical,  states  that 

"  all  accounts  of  gallantry,  pleasure,  and  entertainment  shall 
be  under  the  article  of  White's  chocolate-house  ;  poetry  under 
that  of  Will's  coffee-house ;  learning  under  the  title  of  Gre- 
cian [so  named  because  first  managed  by  a  Greek]  ;  foreign 
and  domestic  news,  you  will  have  from  St.  James's  coffee- 
house [headquarters  for  the  Whigs]  ;  and  whatever  else  I 
have  to  offer  on  any  subject  shall  be  dated  from  my  own 
apartment." 

This  programme  was  for  some  time  adhered  to  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  paper.  In  his  character  of  the 
Spectator,  Addison  has  this  to  say  in  the  first  issue  of 
that  periodical :  — 

"  There  is  no  place  of  general  resort  wherin  I  do  not  often 
make  my  appearance  ;  sometimes  I  am  seen  thrusting  my 
head  into  a  round  of  politicians  at  Will's  and  listening  with 
great  attention  to  the  narratives  that  are  made  in  these  little 
circular  audiences.  Sometimes  I  smoke  a  pipe  at  Childs', 
and  while  I  seem  attentive  to  nothing  but  The  Postman,1 
overhear  the  conversation  of  every  table  in  the  room.  I  ap- 
pear on  Tuesday  night  at  St.  James's  coffee-house,  and  some- 
times join  the  little  committee  of  politics  in  the  inner  room, 
as  one  who  comes  to  hear  and  improve.  My  face  is  like- 
wise very  well  known  at  the  Grecian,  the  Cocoa-tree,  and  in 
the  theatres  both  of  Drury  Lane  and  the  Haymarket.     I 

1  Title  of  a  newspaper.     Compare  Thackeray  on  these  periodicals  in 
•lis  English  Humourists. 


232  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

have  been  taken  for  a  merchant  upon  the  Exchange  for 
above  these  two  years  ;  and  sometimes  pass  for  a  Jew  in  the 
assembly  of  stock-jobbers  at  Jonathan's." 

Having  reviewed  thus  the  conditions  so  favorable  to 
The  the  new  experiment,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  the 

Tatier.  conception  of  that  famous  little  sheet,  the 
Tatler,  developed  in  the  sanguine  mind  of  Richard 
Steele.  Humor  was  an  element  which  had  not  yet  ap- 
peared —  intentionally  —  in  the  publications  then  cur- 
rent ;  but  Dick  Steele  was  a  humorist  of  genuine  and 
happy  type.  In  the  first  issue  of  his  paper  the  spirit 
of  his  genial,  lively  nature  found  prompt  expression, 
and  to  the  pervasive  presence  of  this  agreeable  quality 
must  we  assign  in  part  the  immediate  popularity  of  his 
enterprise.  Something  of  a  serious  purpose  is  also 
avowed  by  the  author  in  the  dedication  of  the  first  com- 
pleted volume  :  — 

"  The  general  purpose  of  this  Paper  is  to  expose  the  false 
arts  of  life,  to  pull  off  the  disguises  of  cunning  vanity  and 
affectation,  and  to  recommend  a  general  simplicity  in  our 
dress,  our  discourse,  and  our  behavior." 

The  Tatier  appeared  on  post  days,  three  times  a 
week ;  the  sheet  was  small,  and  sold  for  a  penny  ;  the 
first  number  was  issued  April  12, 1709,  the  last,  Janu- 
ary 2, 1711.  Contributions  were  accepted  from  various 
writers,  some  of  whom  were  not  identified  until  the 
publication  of  the  final  volume.  Addison,  who  de- 
tected the  personality  of  Steele  on  reading  the  sixth 
number,  contributed  forty-one  of  the  papers,  and,  in 
conjunction  with  his  friend,  wrote  thirty-four  others  ; 
but  of  the  271  Toilers  188  were  written  by  Steele. 

Two  months  after  the  cessation  of  the  Tatier  Steele 
was  ready  with  a  new  venture,  and  March  1,  1711,  he 
issued  the  first  /Spectator.     In  this  publication  Joseph 


THE  SPECTATOR  233 

Addison  soon  became  the  dominant  spirit,  and  with 
the  essays  published  in  this  most  famous  of  TheSpec- 
the  literary  periodicals  his  fame  as  an  Eng-  tator> 
lish  writer  is  most  closely  connected.  He  wrote  274 
of  the  555  numbers  which  composed  the  first  series, 
and  twenty-four  of  the  second  series,  which  appeared 
in  1714.  Of  the  635  numbers  included  in  both  the 
first  and  second  Spectator,  Steele  produced  240. 

The  famous  "  Club,"  which  forms  the  most  impor- 
tant feature  of  the  periodical,  was  originated  by  Steele  ; 
but  Addison  so  elaborated  and  appropriated  the  char- 
acters of  its  members,  particularly  that  of  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley,  the  amiable  country  squire,  that  this  por- 
tion of  the  work  is  justly  attributed  to  him. 

The  success  of  the  Spectator  surpassed  that  of  its 
predecessor.  There  was  no  attempt  to  furnish  the 
news  ;  each  number  contained  a  finished  essay.  In 
the  tenth  number  the  Spectator  declares,  in  his  own 
character :  — 

"  The  mind  that  lies  fallow  but  a  single  day  sprouts  up  in 
follies  that  are  only  to  be  killed  by  a  constant  and  assiduous 
culture.  It  was  said  of  Socrates  that  he  brought  Philosophy 
down  from  heaven  to  inhabit  among  men ;  and  I  shall  be 
ambitious  to  have  it  said  of  me  that  I  have  brought  Philoso- 
phy out  of  closets  and  libraries,  schools  and  colleges,  to  dwell 
in  clubs  and  assemblies,  at  tea-tables  and  in  coffee-houses." 

That  the  hopes  of  the  essayist  were  not  disappointed 
may  be  inferred  from  the  following  letter,  printed  in 
Number  92  of  the  periodical :  — 

"  Mr.  Spectator,  —  Your  paper  is  a  part  of  my  tea- 
equipage  ;  and  my  servant  knows  my  humor  so  well  that,  in 
calling  for  my  breakfast  this  morning  (it  being  past  my  usual 
hour),  she  answered  the  Spectator  was  not  yet  come  in,  but 
the  tea-kettle  boiled,  and  she  expected  it  every  moment."  1 

J  This  was  a  genuine  communication  from  a  Miss  Shepherd. 


234  FROM   ADDISON  TO   BURNS 

The  statement  has  been  made  that  the  paper  reached 
a  circulation  of  10,000  copies ;  upon  some  special 
occasions  this  may  very  possibly  have  been  true. 

In  1713  Addison's  tragedy  of  Cato  was  produced 
with  notable  success.  Contemporary  critics 
were  extravagant  in  its  praise.  Pope  wrote 
a  prologue ;  Swift,  with  whom  Addison  had  been 
on  hostile  terms  owing  to  party  antagonism,  joined  in 
the  general  congratulation.  Cato  was  translated  into 
French,  Italian,  German,  and  even  into  Latin.  Vol- 
taire called  it  "  the  first  reasonable  English  tragedy." 
Yet  Addison's  drama  is  an  artificial  work,  formal,  pas- 
sionless ;  it  embodies  the  prosaic  spirit  of  the  time  and 
does  not  rise  above  the  rules  of  art  which  that  age 
deemed  correct.  It  is  classic  in  form  as  in  subject  and 
follows  strictly  the  law  of  the  unities.  It  is  highly 
rhetorical  and  lofty  in  tone.  Cato's  soliloquy,  begin= 
ning 

"  It  must  be  so  —  Plato,  thou  reasonest  well !  — 
Else  whence  this  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 
This  longing  after  immortality  ?  " 

is  a  familiar  passage  introducing  a  really  impressive 
scene. 

Addison's  marriage  with  the  Countess  of  Warwick 
Closing  *n  1716  was  followed  by  further  political  ad- 
Years,  vancement.  He  became  Secretary  of  State  in 
1717,  retiring  with  a  pension  of  X1500  in  the  following 
year.  Unhappily,  political  differences,  aggravated  by 
Steele's  carelessness  in  money  obligations,  induced  a 
quarrel  between  these  old-time  friends  which  was  never 
healed.  Steele  in  Hie  Plebeian,  and  Addison  in  Tlie 
Old  Whig,  engaged  in  a  stormy  controversy,  which  was 
ended  by  the  death  of  Addison  in  1719.  Steele  con- 
tinued to  busy  himself  with  various  journalistic  schemes, 
largely  of  a  partisan  character,  establishing  successively 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  235 

The  Englishman,  The  Reader,  The  Plebeian,  and  The 
Theatre.  He  had  quarreled  with  Swift,  had  obtained 
and  lost  a  seat  in  Parliament,  held  some  minor  offices 
under  George  L,  again  entered  Parliament,  and  con- 
tinued writing  till  his  death  in  1729. 

The  influence  of  these  two  essayists  was  not  confined 
to  literary  form  ;  both  were  moralists  in  purpose,  as  we 
have  seen,  and  Addison,  particularly,  infused  a  spirit 
of  clean  and  wholesome  morality  into  the  literature  of 
the  century. 

The  naturalness  of  Addison's  expression  is  its  most  con- 
spicuous quality.     He  seems  to  have  written  just   suggestions 

as  he  would  have  spoken  ;  and  Pope  declared  that   J™*116  , 
•       ii  i  •        ■     •  v  Study  of 

his  conversation  had  something  m  it  more  charm-   Addison's 

ing  than  he  had  found  in  that  of  any  other  man.1   Prose. 

Addison's  vocabulary  should  be  noted,  particularly  the  use 

of  familiar  and  common  terms.     In  examining  the  sentence 

form  it  would  be  well  to  get  the  proportion,  approximately, 

of  sentences  which  have  a  loose  structure  and  those  which 

are  periodic.     The  directness  of  the  style  is  noticeable ;  he 

advances  to  his  point  without  deviation,  and  never  goes  out 

of  his  way  to  secure  a  fine  effect.     Compare  Addison's  prose 

with  that  of  Bacon,  noting  the  different  degrees  of  brevity, 

and  the  manner  which  characterizes  each. 

In  the  study  of  Addison,  however,  the  important  point  is 
to  find  the  personal  quality,  the  individuality,  of  the  man, 
which  is  of  more  value  than  the  elements  which  make  up  the 
Addisonian  style.  His  humor  and  his  wit  should  be  studied 
to  see  whether  his  satire  is  bitter  or  sharp.  Is  his  tone  cyni- 
cal, or  does  it  voice  a  spirit  in  sympathetic  touch  with  his 
fellows  ?  A  comparison  has  been  sometimes  drawn  between 
Addison  and  Steele  to  the  advantage  of  the  latter  in  this  re- 
spect. 

In  his  reading  the  student  will  naturally  turn  to  those  fa- 
miliar sketches  of  the  Club  which  are  chiefly  occupied  with 

1  Spence's  Anecdotes. 


236  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

the  history  and  portraiture  of  attractive  old  Sir  Roger.  The 
reader  should  ascertain  the  reasons  for  the  creation  of  this, 
and  the  other  lesser  characters.  What  purpose  are  they  in- 
tended to  fulfill  ?  The  essay  contained  in  the  second  Spec- 
tator will  make  clear  the  general  plan,  as  Steele  designed  it ; 
and  the  fourth  Spectator  shows  us  Addison's  introduction  of 
the  characters  in  a  typical  debate.  The  portrait  of  Sir  Roger 
deserves  careful  study,  for  it  represents  outside  the  drama 
the  first  actual  accomplishment  in  the  delineation  of  real 
character  drawn  direct  from  English  life. 

The  student  should  become  acquainted  with  other  of  Addi- 
son's essays  besides  those  contained  in  tliis  attractive  group. 
Macaulay  suggests  the  reading,  at  one  sitting,  of  the  two 
Visits  to  Westminster  Abbey,  the  Visit  to  the  Exchange, 
the  Journal  of  the  Retired  Citizen,  the  Visio7i  of  Mirza, 
the  Transmigrations  of  Fug  the  Monkey,  and  the  Death  of 
Sir  Roger  de  Coverley.  To  these  should  be  added  several 
of  the  papers  which  deal  with  some  of  the  trifling  follies  of 
fashion  and  manners,  such  as  The  Fine  Lady's  Journal, 
Party  Patches,  The  Exercise  of  the  Fan,  and  Household 
Superstitions.  Nor  should  we  omit  altogether  the  critical 
essays,  like  that  upon  Chevy  Chase,  and  the  essays  on  Milton. 
A  convenient  edition  of  the  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  Papers 
will  be  found  in  Numbers  60,  61,  of  the  Riverside  Litera- 
ture Series  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company).  Macaulay's 
Essay  on  Addison  is  a  classic,  and  Thackeray's  portraits  of 
both  Addison  and  Steele  in  his  English  Humourists  are  most 
vivacious  studies  of  these  men  and  their  age.  Chapters 
upon  the  so-called  newspapers  of  that  day,  and  upon  the 
coffee-houses  and  clubs,  will  be  found  in  Courthope's  Life  of 
Addison,  in  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  and  in  W.  C. 
Sydney's  England  and  the  English  in  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
tury (Macmillan).  Johnson's  Addison,  in  his  Lives  of  the 
I'oets,  is  interesting ;  and  the  brief  essay  introducing  the 
volume  of  selections  from  Addison,  edited  by  J.  R.  Green 
(Macmillan),  is  particularly  valuable.  Upon  the  life  of 
Steele  tlie  biography  by  G.  A.  Aitken  is  authority.  Austin 
Dobson's  Life  of  Steele,  in  the  English  Worthies  Series,  is 


JONATHAN   SWIFT  23? 

a  good,  brief  biography.  A  careful  reading  of  Thackeray's 
great  novel,  Henry  Esmond,  will  prove  as  profitable  as  it 
will  be  entertaining ;  no  more  vivid  picture  of  this  period  in 
English  history  has  ever  been  produced. 

Jonathan  Swift  is  the  foremost  English  satirist  in 
prose.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  arrive  at  a  jonathan 
just  interpretation  of  this  man's  character.  ^"'1745 
One  of  the  keenest  of  wits,  he  was  for  the 
first  thirty  years  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  intellec- 
tual master  of  his  age.  Although  his  remarkable  tal- 
ents received  scant  recognition  from  those  in  power, 
his  influence  in  moulding  public  opinion  was  extraor- 
dinary ;  and  for  a  brief  period  he  appears  a  conspicu- 
ous figure  among  the  party  leaders  whose  measures 
he  supported  by  the  sharpness  and  vigor  of  his  pen. 
Imperious,  caustic,  at  times  brutal,  in  the  strenuous 
expression  of  his  views,  he  domineered  over  friends  and 
foes.  In  the  height  of  his  success  in  London  he  once 
sent  the  Lord  Treasurer  into  the  House  of  Commons 
to  call  out  the  principal  Secretary  of  State  in  order  to 
say  that  he  would  not  dine  with  him  if  he  intended 
to  dine  late.  He  warned  Lord  Bolingbroke,  the  head 
of  the  Tory  government,  not  to  appear  cold  to  him, 
for  he  would  not  be  treated  like  a  schoolboy.  "  If 
we  let  these  great  ministers  pretend  too  much,"  he 
says,  "  there  will  be  no  governing  them."  Yet  the 
life  of  Dean  Swift  was  embittered  by  disappointment 
and  clouded  with  melancholy.  Early  in  life  he  felt 
the  premonitions  of  brain  disease,  and  foretold  the 
mental  decay  in  the  gloom  of  which  his  great  genius 
was  to  expire.  "I  shall  die  like  that,"  he  said  once, 
while  walking  with  the  poet  Young,  pointing  to  a  tree 
whose  branches  were  dead  at  the  top.  To  the  subtle 
working  of   disease  we  must   attribute   some   of   the 


238  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

eccentricities  of  Jonathan  Swift ;  to  that,  too,  in  part, 
the  terrible  cynicism  with  which  he  looked  on  human- 
ity at  large. 

Swift  was  horn  in  Dublin,  of  English  parentage. 
Early  Diifi-  His  father,  wno  na^  held  some  minor  clerk- 
cuities.  ship,  was  already  dead  when  his  son  was  born, 
and  there  was  scarcely  the  barest  provision  for  the 
family  support.  For  many  years  Mrs.  Swift  was  de- 
pendent on  her  brother-in-law,  Godwin  Swift,  under 
whose  direction  and  by  whose  aid  Jonathan  was  sent 
to  school  at  Kilkenny,  where  he  had  for  a  school  fel- 
low William  Congreve,  afterward  the  most  popular 
play-writer  of  that  generation ;  and  then  to  Trinity  Col- 
lege, Dublin,  later  the  college  of  Goldsmith  and  Burke, 
During  his  youth  Swift  led  a  rather  wild  and  stormy 
life,  neglecting  his  courses  at  will,  although,  independ- 
ently of  his  curriculum,  he  read  widely  in  history  and 
literature.  In  1686  he  was  given  a  degree  "  by  special 
favor."  Disappointed  and  vexed  at  his  mishaps,  Swift 
always  recurred  to  this  experience  with  bitterness  ;  for 
his  uncle's  assistance  he  expressed  only  sarcastic  con- 
tempt. 

In  1688,  the  year  of  the  Revolution,  Swift  came  of 
necessity  to  England,  and  soon  found  employ- 
sntin  ment  with  Sir  William  Temple,  a  kinsman, 

England.  W]1Q  nacj  retired  after  a  distinguished  public 
career  and  was  living  at  Moor  Park  in  Surrey.1  As 
a  member  of  Temple's  household  this  proud  and  mor- 
bidly self-conscious  youth  again  found  himself  depend- 
ent on  the  generosity  of  a  patron,  occupying  a  position 
somewhat  above  that  of  a  servant,  and  subject  to  con- 
ditions exasperating  to  one  of  his  temperament  and 
gifts.  As  Sir  William's  secretary,  however,  he  enjoyed 
many  advantages  ;  there  was  time  for  study,  and  his 
1  See  Macaulay's  Essay  on  Sir  William  Temple. 


THE   FIRST  SATIRES  239 

failure  at  the  University  was  now  largely  redeemed.1 
Here,  also,  was  opportunity  to  observe  the  methods  of 
party  policy  and  leadership,  with  favorable  introduc- 
tion to  the  men  most  prominent  in  affairs  of  state. 
King  William  himself  took  note  of  the  young  man,  and 
made  promises  of  advancement  which,  unhappily,  were 
never  fulfilled. 

Upon  the  death  of  Temple  in  1699,  Jonathan  Swift 

went  back  to  Ireland  as  secretary  to  the  Earl  „   ... 

Swift  as  a 

of  Berkeley,  the  lord  deputy.  The  year  after  Church- 
he  accepted  the  Church  living  of  Laracor,  man* 
which  he  retained  for  ten  years.  Swift  had  taken 
Church  orders  in  1694,  and  however  unfortunate  his 
choice  of  a  profession  may  appear,  —  a  profession  for 
which  both  by  temper  and  talents  he  would  seem  to 
have  been  singularly  disqualified,  —  we  do  not  find 
him  at  this  period  or  later  disregarding  his  duties 
or  slighting  his  obligations  to  the  Church.  In  1701 
he  went  to  England  on  ecclesiastical  business  at  the 
instance  of  the  Bishop  of  Dublin ;  and  during  the 
years  1701-10  was  able  to  divide  his  time  between 
Laracor  and  London,  so  that  about  half  of  each  year 
was  passed  in  a  society  far  more  congenial  to  his  ac- 
tive, vigorous  mind  than  that  afforded  by  an  Irish  vic- 
arage. 

When  Swift  appeared  thus  in  London,  his  name  was 
not  unknown  to  that  circle  of  scholars  and  TheFlrst 
politicians,  professional  men  and  wits,  who  Satires, 
gossiped  at  the  coffee-houses,  where  Congreve,  the  dra- 
matist, Matthew  Prior,  the  poet,  Dick  Steele,  editor  of 
The  Gazette,  and  the  dignified,  rather  reticent  Mr. 
Addison,  now  rapidly  advancing  in  the  good  graces  of 
the  Whigs,  were  among  the  most  brilliant  of  the  lit- 

1  Swift  received  the  master's  degree  in  1692  from  Oxford,  and  in 
1701  that  of  LL.  D.  from  Dublin. 


240  FROM   ADDISON   TO  BURNS 

erary  group  ;  for  this  capable  representative  of  the 
Irish  Church  was  generally  known  to  be  the  author  of 
two  pamphlets  which  had  already  brought  him  no 
small  fame,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  had  circulated 
anonymously  and  were  not  published  until  1704. 
These  were  his  two  satires  The  Tale  of  a  Tub  and 
TJie  Battle  of  the  Boohs.  The  first  was  written  in 
1G96.  Although  the  first  of  Swift's  serious  efforts,  it 
remains  not  only  the  most  perfect  of  his  essays,  but 
stands  as  perhaps  the  best  example  of  the  prose  satire 
in  English.  Its  whimsical  title  is  explained  in  the 
preface  by  reference  to  the  fact  "  that  seamen  have  a 
custom,  when  they  meet  a  whale,  to  fling  him  out  an 
empty  tub  by  way  of  amusement,  to  divert  him  from 
laying  violent  hands  upon  the  ship."  The  ship,  in  this 
case,  may  stand  for  the  Government,  including  the  two- 
fold relations  of  Church  and  State ;  and  this  pamphlet 
is  tossed  out  to  those  who  are  hostile  to  religion  and 
government,  in  order  to  divert  their  attacks.  In  this 
satire  occurs  the  famous  parable  of  Peter,  Martin,  and 
Jack  (typifying  the  Roman  Church,  the  Church  of  the 
Reformation,  and  the  Calvinists),  who  inherit  coats, 
exactly  of  one  pattern,  with  specific  directions  as  to 
how  they  shall  be  worn.  The  manner  in  which  these 
three  sons  succeed  in  evading  the  terms  of  their  father's 
will  is  described  with  blunt  vigor  and  much  pictur- 
esque wit.  So  strong  is  the  satire,  and  so  bold  the 
handling  of  themes  more  or  less  sacred,  that  charges  of 
irreverence  and  even  of  blasphemy  were  laid  against 
the  daring  young  writer,  and  Swift's  subsequent  failure 
to  reach  the  higher  preferments  of  the  Church  may  be 
attributed  to  his  authorship  of  this  tract.  The  work 
diil,  however,  give  him  immediate  standing  among  the 
strongest  writers  of  the  day. 

The  Battle  of  the  Books  was  a  slighter  effort,  bright 


BICKERSTAFF  241 

and  spirited  and  distinctly  humorous  in  tone.  Sir 
William  Temple  had  become  involved  in  a  protracted 
discussion  over  the  comparative  merits  of  ancient  and 
modern  literature,  and  into  this  not  very  dignified 
squabble  his  keen-witted  secretary  (it  was  in  1696-97) 
injected  the  humor  of  his  burlesque.  The  satire  sup- 
plies a  mock-heroic  narrative  of  the  encounter  and 
disasters  which  occur  in  a  desperate  battle  fought  be- 
tween the  ancient  and  the  modern  books.  Sir  Wil- 
liam's enemies  are  utterly  destroyed,  the  two  most 
conspicuous  champions  being  neatly  spitted  together 
on  a  single  lance. 

With  Addison  and    Steele,   Swift  was  for  several 

vears  more  or  less  closely  associated,  although 

Bickerstafi. 
he  afterward  quarreled  with  both.  He  con- 
tributed papers  to  the  Tatter,  and  himself  originated 
the  character  of  Isaac  Bickerstaff',  which  Steele  as- 
sumed when  he  launched  that  paper  upon  its  pleasant 
career.  Among  the  petty  superstitions  which  were 
then  prevalent,  against  which  much  of  the  mild  satire 
of  Addison  and  Steele  was  subsequently  directed,  was 
a  vulgar  belief  in  the  assumptions  of  astrology ;  and 
one  of  the  more  prominent  quacks  of  the  day,  who 
lived  upon  the  ignorance  and  folly  of  the  common 
people,  was  a  so-called  astrologer  by  the  name  of  Par- 
tridge. In  1707  Swift  published,  under  the  name  of 
Bickerstaff,  certain  predictions  for  the  ensuing  year, 
among  which  he  foretold  the  death  of  Partridge  upon 
a  date  which  he  fixed  by  the  formulae  of  the  science 
itself.  Although  the  victim  of  the  joke  protested  that 
he  was  still  alive  after  the  date  fixed  for  his  demise, 
Bickerstaff  proved  publicly  that  he  must  be  dead  ;  and 
other  humorists  supported  the  assertion  so  effectively 
that  the  would-be  astrologer  was  fairly  laughed  out  of 
business  if   not  out  of  existence.     The  circumstance 


242  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

gave  such  prominence  to  the  name  of  Isaac  Bick&rstajf 
that  Steele  was  glad,  as  a  matter  of  advantage,  to 
appropriate  it  to  his  own  use. 

But  Swift's  activity  was  employed  in  other  and  more 
The  Pell-  serious  directions  than  in  the  mere  play  of  his 
ttcian.  wit.    IJe  ha(j  a  genius  for  politics  ;  was  prob- 

ably the  great  political  genius  of  his  time.  From  the 
Whigs,  with  whose  party  successes  Addison's  advance- 
ment had  been  so  closely  associated,  he  never  received 
that  recognition  which  his  abilities  deserved,  and  their 
indifference  to  his  talents  drove  him  out  of  that  party 
in  disgust.  In  1710  the  Tories  again  came  into  power; 
Swift  was  cordially  welcomed  to  their  council,  and  the 
period  of  his  prominent  participation  in  national  poli- 
tics begins.  For  eight  months  he  conducted  The  Ex- 
aminer, a  weekly  series  of  political  essays  wholly  the 
work  of  his  own  pen.  In  1711  he  prepared  a  pamphlet 
on  The  Conduct  of  the  Allies,  his  strongest  political 
paper.  Swift  was  now  urging  his  claims  on  the  Govern- 
ment, but  not  until  1713  did  he  receive  his  tardy  pro- 
motion to  the  not  very  desirable  office  of  Dean  of  St. 
Patrick's  in  Dublin  —  the  highest  appointment  he  ever 
attained.  Following  the  accession  of  George  I.  in 
1714,  and  the  downfall  of  the  Tory  cabinet,  his  public 
career  was  closed ;  in  thoroughly  pessimistic  mood  he 
returned  once  more  to  Ireland  and  settled  down  to  his 
estate,  nursing  his  grievances  and  quick  to  arraign  the 
blunders  of  those  now  in  power. 

Along  with  the  numerous  pamphlets  and  articles 
devoted  to  party  affairs  and  Church  interests 
Journal  in  Ireland,  we  owe  to  this  period  of  London 
to  steiia.  residence  a  volume  of  rare  interest ;  this  is 
the  series  of  letters  comprised  in  Swift's  Journal  to 
Stella.  Esther  Johnson  was  a  young  woman  in  the 
Temple  household,  almost  a  child  when  Swift  was  filling 


THE   JOURNAL   TO   STELLA  243 

his  position  of  secretary  to  Sir  William.  He  had  di- 
rected her  studies  at  that  time ;  although  many  years 
his  junior,  her  personality  had  greatly  attracted  him, 
and  after  the  death  of  their  common  patron  their  inti- 
macy continued.  The  relations  between  this  bright, 
talented  girl  and  the  brilliant,  imperious  genius  to  whom 
she  was  devoted  are  not  fully  known.  There  is  a  tra- 
dition that  they  were  married,  but  there  is  no  evidence 
of  such  an  event,  which  is  unlikely.  Of  their  mutual 
affection  there  is  no  doubt.  It  throws  a  softer  light 
upon  the  inner  life  of  this  singular  man  to  know  that 
after  his  death  there  was  found  among  his  papers  a 
little  package  inscribed  "  only  a  woman's  hair ;  "  the 
lock  thus  treasured  was  Stella's. 

The  correspondence  itself  is  an  actual  diary  of  Swift's 
life  during  the  years  1710-13  ;  and  in  these  letters  an 
entirely  new  phase  of  his  personality  is  shown.  Not 
only  are  the  daily  experiences,  trivial  as  well  as  notable, 
vividly  recounted ;  the  meetings  with  prominent  per- 
sons, the  intercourse  with  great  men  of  which  he  was 
so  proud ;  the  influence  he  exerted,  the  flattery  paid  to 
his  own  talents,  the  gossip  of  coffee-house  and  club,  of 
cabinet  and  parlor  :  not  only  does  he  draw  deft  por- 
traitures of  all  the  great  lions,  —  than  whom  none  roars 
more  impressively  than  the  great  Dean  himself,  —  but 
here  Swift  lays  aside,  for  the  only  time  in  his  career 
as  a  writer,  the  mask  of  mockery  which  he  assumes  in 
every  other  public  expression  of  his  thought.  In  play- 
ful, affectionate  terms  he  writes  to  this  woman  as  a 
parent  might  write  to  a  child,  using  the  "  little  lan- 
guage "  of  a  jocular  tenderness  which  employs  abbrevi- 
ations and  resorts  to  a  cipher  code.  This  Journal  gives 
us  an  invaluable  reproduction  of  the  men  and  manners 
of  that  age  ;  it  also  gives  us  almost  our  only  glimpse  of 
the  real  heart  of  Jonathan  Swift. 


244  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

After  his  return  to  Ireland  in  1714,  the  Dean  in- 
TheDrapier  terested  himself  more  and  more  in  Irish 
Letters.  affairs,  and  not  infrequently  expressed  his 
mind  in  some  vigorous  tract,  always  anonymously  and 
almost  always  with  that  terrible  irony  so  characteristic 
of  his  style  that  his  identity  was  easily  guessed.  The 
most  notable  of  the  Irish  papers  are  The  Drapier  Let- 
ters, published  in  1724.  This  series  of  papers  was  in- 
spired by  an  act  of  Government  licensing  an  English 
speculator  to  coin  copper  half-pence  for  circulation  in 
Ireland,  where  coins  of  small  denomination  were  much 
needed  in  trade.  The  terms  of  the  patent  sanctioned 
what  seemed  to  be  a  gross  robbery  of  the  Irish  people, 
and  aroused  an  indignant  resistance.  In  the  midst  of 
the  transaction  Swift,  anonymously,  published  these 
pamphlets,  signed  "  M.  B.,  drapier,"  and  addressed  to 
"  the  tradesmen,  shopkeepers,  farmers,  and  country  peo- 
ple in  general  of  the  kingdom  of  Ireland."  Shrewdly 
impersonating  the  character  of  a  plain  Dublin  draper, 
the  author  assailed  the  scheme,  arguing  the  ruin  of 
Ireland  if  the  plan  were  adopted.  There  were  four  of 
the  letters,  and  their  effect  was  immediate.  Not  only 
did  the  Government  recall  the  contract,  but  Swift  him- 
self, when  identified  as  the  writer  of  the  Letters,  be- 
came a  popular  hero  among  the  Irish  people. 

It  is  as  the  author  of  Gulliver  that  Jonathan  Swift 
Gulliver's  is  best  known  to  the  world,  —  a  work  so  sin- 
Traveis.  gular  in  its  purpose  and  so  distinct  in  literary 
method  that  it  stands  by  itself  in  literature,  like  the 
Utopia  of  Sir  Thomas  More  and  the  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress of  John  Bunyan.  The  Travels  consists  of  the 
narrative  of  Lemuel  Gulliver,  first  a  surgeon,  and  then 
a  captain  of  several  ships,  who,  in  four  remarkable 
voyages,  discovers  the  island-empire  of  Lilliput,  the 
country  of  the  Brobdingnagians,  the  flying  kingdom  of 


GULLIVER'S  TRAVELS  245 

Laputa,  and  the  disagreeable  land  of  the  Houyhnhnms.1 
The  first  of  these  narratives  is  exceedingly  amusing  ; 
here  the  discoverer  sojourns  among  the  little  people, 
who  attain  a  stature  of  six  inches ;  their  houses,  furni- 
ture, domestic  animals,  forests,  fruits,  and  grains  are 
all  in  due  proportion  to  the  size  of  the  inhabitants.  In 
the  land  of  Brobdingnag  these  proportions  are  exactly 
reversed ;  the  grass  grows  twenty  feet  in  height,  the 
hedges  are  at  least  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  tall, 
while  the  trees  are  too  lofty  to  be  measured.  Here 
Gulliver,  the  man-mountain,  as  the  Lilliputians  termed 
him,  is  studied  like  an  insect  by  his  new  captors,  with 
the  aid  of  a  magnifying  glass.  In  the  third  voyage  the 
satire  grows  more  pointed.  The  court  of  Laputa  is 
composed  of  musicians  and  scientists,  who  live  wholly 
in  the  air  ;  their  feet  never  touch  the  earth,  their  heads 
are  in  the  clouds,  and  naturally,  their  minds  are  usually 
befogged.  Adepts  in  music  and  mathematics,  they  par- 
ticipate in  the  harmony  of  the  spheres  and  express 
their  ideas  in  lines  and  figures.  Their  tailors  take 
their  measure  by  quadrant  and  compasses,  but  as  mis- 
takes are  frequent,  their  clothes  are  ill-made  and  fit 
poorly.  In  their  royal  university  of  Lagado  philoso- 
phers are  at  work  on  all  manner  of  absurd  problems : 
one  is  engaged  in  extracting  sunbeams  from  cucumbers  ; 
another  is  designing  a  method  for  building  houses  by 
first  constructing  the  roof ;  the  projector  of  specula- 
tive learning  is  busy  with  a  device  for  compiling  a 
complete  body  of  all  arts  and  sciences,  through  the 
means  of  a  machine  which  shifts  about  a  great  number 
of  little  blocks,  each  inscribed  with  a  single  word,  and 
is  operated  by  turning  a  crank.  It  is,  however,  in  the 
fourth  and  final  section  of  his  work  that  Swift's  satire 

1  This  apparently  unpronounceable  name  is  suggested  by  the  whinny 
of  the  horse  and  is  pronounced  whinnems. 


246  FROM   ADDISON  TO  BURNS 

finds  its  most  savage  and  virulent  expression.  The  last 
voyage  discovers  a  land  where  the  horses  are  endowed 
with  reason,  while  the  Yahoos,  a  race  of  repulsive 
creatures  resembling  human  beings  in  form,  are  char- 
acterized by  the  most  degrading  and  disgusting  traits 
conceivable  in  brutes.  Here  the  cynicism  and  misan- 
thropy of  the  satire  are  overwhelming.  The  experi- 
ences of  Gulliver  among  the  tiny  Lilliputians,  and  his 
adventures  among  the  good-natured  giants  of  Brob- 
dingnag,  may  be  read  with  amusement ;  the  observations 
chronicled  upon  the  unpractical  philosophers  of  Laputa 
and  Lagado  provoke  our  admiration  through  the  very 
sharpness  of  their  caustic  yet  truthful  touch :  but  this 
last  narrative  is  intolerable.  It  gives  a  fresh  signifi- 
cance to  a  line  in  one  of  Swift's  letters  to  Pope  —  "  but 
principally  I  hate  and  detest  that  animal  called  man  !  " 
And  yet  such  is  the  smoothness  of  his  diction  and  the 
marvelous  realism  of  his  fiction,  that  Swift's  Gidliver 
has  for  generations  been  the  delight  of  children,  who 
have  found  in  the  rich  imagination  of  the  story  all  the 
fascination  of  a  fairy  tale. 

While  we  give  such  prominence  to  the  satires  of 
The  spirit  Swift,  we  must  not  forget  what  an  important 
of  the  place  was  filled  by  the  satire  in  the  literature 

of  that  age.  If  Dean  Swift  was  the  greatest 
of  the  satirists,  all  of  his  contemporaries  in  letters  were 
satirists  each  in  his  degree.  Two  writers  of  the  Resto- 
ration period,  Butler  and  Dryden,  had  not  only  estab- 
lished their  fame  by  the  use  of  satire  in  their  verse, 
but  they  had  also  established  that  form  of  literature  in 
popular  favor.  The  influence  of  literary  fashions  in 
France,  and  the  revival  of  interest  in  the  Latin  classics, 
confirmed  this  popularity  among  scholars  of  all  depart- 
ments ;  both  prose  writers  and  writers  of  verse  were 
devoted  to  the  composition  of  satires,  and  the  spirit  of 


LAST  YEARS  247 

the  time  found  no  more  characteristic  expression  than 
through  this  form  of  literary  art. 

Just  before  leaving  England  to  enter  upon  his  duties 
as  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  Swift  had  joined  with  three 
distinguished  contemporaries,  Alexander  Pope,  John 
Gay,  and  John  Arbuthnot,  in  an  agreement  to  produce 
a  series  of  satires  upon  the  follies  of  men.  This  was 
the  genesis  of  the  Scriblerus  Club,  and  Arbuthnot's 
once  famous  work,  The  Memoirs  of  Martinus  Scrib- 
lerus, was  one  outcome  of  this  undertaking.  Pope's 
E})istles  and  Swift's  Gulliver  were  at  least  in  keeping 
with  the  purpose  of  this  association. 

The  end  of  Swift's  story  is  sad  enough.  Stella  had 
died  in  1728,  and  the  shadow  of  his  own  in-  ^^  ^^ 
firmity  gradually  developed  until  his  once 
brilliant  mind  was  hopelessly  clouded.  "  It  is  time  for 
me  to  have  done  with  the  world,"  he  wrote  to  Boling- 
broke ;  "  and  so  I  would,  if  I  could,  get  into  a  better 
before  I  was  called  into  the  best,  and  not  die  here  in  a 
rage,  like  a  poisoned  rat  in  a  hole."  There  were  pe- 
riods when  he  was  violently  insane ;  at  other  times  he 
appeared  sunk  in  a  state  of  lethargy.  He  died  October 
19,  1745,  and  was  buried  in  his  own  cathedral  church 
of  St.  Patrick's,  where,  in  accordance  with  his  request, 
his  body  was  placed  by  the  side  of  Stella.  His  fortune, 
amounting  to  £12,000,  he  bequeathed  to  establish  an 
asylum  for  the  insane ;  and  upon  this  foundation  St. 
Patrick's  Hospital  was  opened  in  1757. 

"  An  immense  genius,"  says  Thackeray ;  "  an  awful  down- 
fall and  ruin.  So  great  a  man  he  seems  to  me,  that  think- 
ing of  him  is  like  thinking  of  an  empire  falling.  We  have 
other  great  names  to  mention  —  none,  I  think,  however,  so 
great  or  so  gloomy." 

Thackeray's  picture  of  Swift's  career  is  perhaps  too 


248  FROM  ADDISON  TO  BURNS 

dark.  It  was  Swift's  misfortune  to  view  the  world 
cynically  ;  to  observe  its  follies  and  its  crimes  distorted 
to  extravagant  proportions.  It  was  his  weakness  that 
he  should  have  devoted  his  splendid  energies  to  the 
uses  of  ridicule  and  scorn  rather  than  to  the  expression 
of  sympathy,  encouragement,  and  faith  ;  yet  it  is  a  su- 
perficial judgment  which  reports  of  Jonathan  Swift  as 
merely  the  misanthropic  censor  of  his  race  :  the  record 
of  his  literary  life  is  a  record  of  vigorous,  outspoken 
defiance  against  incompetence  and  sham ;  his  motives 
are  not  those  of  a  petty  quarrelsome  nature ;  they  are, 
for  the  most  part,  inspired  by  the  discovery  of  some 
abuse,  or  the  threatened  injustice  of  a  tyrannous  power. 
If  he  appears  inordinately  ambitious  for  influence,  it 
was  to  wield  it  for  others'  good,  not  to  possess  it  for 
himself. 

Read  Thackeray  on  Swift,  in  English  Humourists,  and 
Bibliogra-  Johnson's  Life  in  his  Lives  of  the  Poets.  Leslie 
Phy-  Stephen   is   the   author   of  the   biography   in  the 

English  Men  of  Letters  Series.  Henry  Morley  has  edited 
an  excellent  edition  of  Gulliver 's  Travels  in  the  Carisbroohe 
Library  (Routledge,  London).  Another  volume  of  this 
Library  includes  a  number  of  the  minor  writings.  The  Tale 
of  a  Tub  is  given  entire,  together  with  other  essays,  in  a  vol- 
ume of  the  Camelot  Series  (W.  Scott,  London).  Selections 
from  Swift,  edited  by  F.  C.  Prescott,  is  published  by  H. 
Holt,  and  another  volume  of  selections,  edited  by  C.  T.  Win- 
chester, is  published  by  Ginn  and  Company.  The  Little 
Masterpieces  Series,  edited  by  Bliss  Perry  (Doubleday, 
Page  and  Company),  contains  a  volume  of  selections  from 
characteristic  papers.  Sir  Walter  Scott  edited  the  Works 
of  Swift,  together  with  a  valuable  Memoir.  The  Prose 
Works  have  been  edited  recently  by  Temple  Scott  (George 
Bell,  London). 


ALEXANDER   POPE  249 

II.     THE    POETRY    OF   ALEXANDER    POPE. 

The  great  representative  poet  in  this  age  of  prose 
was  Alexander  Pope.  He  was  the  legitimate 
successor  of  Dryden,  for  whom  his  admiration  Pope, 
was  intense  even  as  a  child,  and  whose  pol-  1688"17  ■ 
ished  form  of  composition,  developed  to  a  wonderful 
perfection,  Pope  made  the  model  of  English  verse  for 
more  than  half  a  century.  While  incapable  of  great 
variety  in  either  the  spirit  or  the  expression  of  ideas, 
his  mind  was  extraordinarily  brilliant  in  its  aptness  for 
epigram  and  in  its  use  of  satire,  the  inevitable  instru- 
ment of  literary  genius  in  his  day.  It  is  no  less  char- 
acteristic of  his  time  than  of  his  own  peculiar  talents 
that  Pope's  most  distinctive  works  are  didactic  compo- 
sitions entitled  Essays,  or  satirical  poems  upon  man- 
ners, morals,  and  literary  themes.  He  rarely  intro- 
duced any  other  metre  than  that  of  the  heroic  couplet, 
which  he  handled  with  a  facile  art  which  makes  him 
the  undisputed  master  of  that  particular  verse  form. 
No  other  English  writer  except  Shakespeare  has  pro- 
duced so  many  lines  which  have  found  a  permanent  and 
familiar  place  in  our  literature.  Yet  Pope's  defects 
are  as  notable  as  his  excellences.  He  has  no  true  per- 
ception of  the  realities  of  nature,  no  power  to  paint  her 
beauty  or  her  grandeur,  much  less  to  interpret  her 
teaching  or  her  mysteries  ;  he  never  rises  to  the  heights 
of  human  passion  ;  he  brings  no  message  of  profound 
importance  to  the  world.  Like  his  great  contempora- 
ries in  prose  he  ridicules  the  stupidity  of  men  and  spec- 
ulates in  philosophy  and  ethics.  Pope's  place  in  litera- 
ture is,  however,  one  of  high  distinction  ;  he  adequately 
voiced  the  mind  of  his  age  in  verse,  and  as  a  represent- 
ative of  the  purely  literary  life  he  is  the  most  com- 
manding figure  not  only  of  his  age,  but  of  the  entire 
century. 


250  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

Alexander  Pope  was  born  in  London,  May  21,  1G88. 
H1  B  m  His  father,  a  wealthy  linen  draper,  was  a 
hood.  Catholic,  and,  in  common  with  the  followers 

of  that  creed,  suffered  from  the  intolerance  of  the  time. 
Owing  to  the  bitter  feeling  engendered  by  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  childish  fears  of  Jacobite  uprisings,  Catholics 
were  subjected  to  great  annoyance  and  deprived  of 
many  natural  privileges  and  rights.  Their  children 
were  not  admitted  to  the  public  schools.  The  poet's 
training  was  unsystematic  ;  he  studied  with  various 
tutors,  but  mainly  by  himself.  He  was  a  precocious 
child,  and  at  a  very  tender  age  showed  some  ability  in 
making  verse.     His  own  words  are  :  — 

"  While  yet  a  ehild,  nor  yet  a  fool  to  fame, 
I  lisped  in  numbers,  for  the  numbers  came." 

Homer  and  Ovid  were  his  delight,  although  he  knew 
these  classics  better  through  translations  than  in  the 
original.  The  English  poets  Waller  and  Spenser, 
above  all  Dryden,  especially  impressed  him.  Before 
he  was  fifteen  years  of  age  he  undertook  to  write  an 
epic  poem  with  the  title  of  Alcander,  Prince  of 
Rhodes,  of  which  one  couplet  remains  extant :  — 

"  Shields,  helms,  and  swords  all  jangle  as  they  hang, 
And  sound  formidinous  with  angry  clang." 

In  the  year  following  the  poet's  birth  his  father  had 
removed  to  Binfield,  a  small  town  not  far  from  Wind- 
sor and  on  the  border  of  the  famous  forest ;  here  the 
poet's  childhood  was  passed,  except  for  a  period  of  two 
or  three  years  when  he  was  sent  to  London  to  study 
French.  It  was  at  this  time,  when  he  was  perhaps  ten 
years  old,  that  Pope  got  his  glimpse  of  the  great  Mr. 
Dryden.  V&rgiHwm  tantum  vidi  he  wrote  in  his  re- 
cord of  that  memorable  day  when,  at  his  own  importu- 
nate request,  he  was  taken  by  some  friend  to  Will's 
Coffee-IIouse,  and  gazed  at  the  first  poet  of  the  time  as 


EARLY   POEMS  251 

he  sat  in  his  accustomed  chair.  It  was  not  long  after- 
ward that  William  Walsh,  a  critic  of  some  authority, 
gave  the  young  verse  maker  his  famous  word  of  coun- 
sel. "  Be  correct,"  said  he  ;  "  we  have  had  great  poets, 
but  never  one  great  poet  that  was  correct." 

Pope's  earliest  productions  worthy  of  note  are  his 
Pastorals,  published  in  1709,  but  written,  Eariy 
according  to  his  own  account,  when  he  was  Poems- 
only  sixteen  years  old.  These  compositions  may  be  re- 
garded as  the  exercises  of  a  schoolboy  practicing  the 
metrical  art,  but  they  prove  the  possession  of  unusual 
gifts.  The  classical  spirit  dominates ;  they  are  eclogues 
after  the  Vergilian  model.  They  are  four  in  number, 
one  for  each  of  the  four  seasons,  and  suggest  the  influ- 
ence of  Spenser,  whose  Shepherd's  Calendar  they 
somewhat  resemble. 

The  poem  Windsor  Forest,  the  direct  product  of 
the  young  poet's  environment,  appeared  in  1713.  Here 
again  the  machinery  is  altogether  classical. 

"  Not  proud  Olympus  yields  a  nobler  sight, 
Tho'  Gods  assembled  grace  his  towering  height, 
Than  what  more  humble  mountains  offer  here, 
Where,  in  their  blessings,  all  those  Gods  appear. 
See  Pan  with  flocks,  with  fruits  Pomona  crown'd, 
Here  blushing  Flora  paints  th'  enamel'd  ground, 
Here  Ceres'  gifts  in  waving  prospect  stand, 
And  nodding,  tempt  the  joyful  reaper's  hand ; 
Rich  Industry  sits  smiling  on  the  plains, 
And  peace  and  plenty  tell  a  Stuart  reigns." 

Such  a  mingling  of  Roman  mythology  with  modern 
English  history  cannot  fail  to  be  incongruous,  but  its 
absurdity  was  not  generally  felt  in  Pope's  era.  So 
Diana  with  her  buskined  nymphs  is  allowed  to  stray 
unchallenged  over  the  dewy  lawns  of  Windsor ;  the 
Muses  sport  on  Ceoper's  Hill ;  great  Scipio,  Atticus, 
and  Sir  William  Trumbull  are  celebrated  impartially 
in  the  same  couplet. 


252  FROM   ADDISON  TO  BURNS 

Of  more  distinguished  merit  than  these  poems  is  the 
Essay  on   Criticism,  which  falls  chronologi- 
on  cnti.       cally  between  the  compositions  just  described. 
clsm'  It  was  written  when  Pope  was  but  twenty-one, 

and  published  in  1711.  In  this  brilliantly  phrased 
Essay  Pope  covers,  superficially,  the  entire  field  of 
contemporary  criticism.  He  offers  nothing  new  ;  there 
is  no  particular  originality  in  the  thought.  His  ma- 
terial is  absorbed  largely  from  the  writings  of  Boileau 
and  Bossu,  representing  the  canons  of  French  taste 
which  had  been  accepted  by  Dryden  and  his  school. 
These  doctrines  are  reenunciated  by  Pope,  combined 
with  the  common  truisms  of  literary  art.  In  the 
phrasing  and  the  form  which  he  gave  to  these  ideas, 
however,  there  was  a  freshness  and  finish,  a  wonderful 
aptness  and  brilliancy  of  style  which  were  entirely 
novel  and  remarkably  impressive.  On  all  sides  the 
work  was  praised.  The  French  critics  conceded  that 
at  last  a  composition  of  merit  had  been  produced  by 
an  English  writer ;  and  Pope  was  welcomed  by  his 
contemporaries  as  a  rising  genius.  The  diction  of  this 
poem  is  especially  admirable  for  its  terseness  and  ele- 
gance ;  the  compact  form  of  the  couplet  lends  itself 
easily  to  epigram,  and  Pope's  witty  lines,  sometimes 
singly,  sometimes  in  pairs,  quickly  found  a  place  in  the 
literature  of  familiar  quotation. 

"  Blunt  truths  more  mischief  than  nice  falsehoods  do." 
"  For  fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread." 
"  To  err  is  human,  to  forgive  divine." 
"  A  little  learning  is  a  dangerous  thing ; 
Drink  deep  or  taste  not  the  Pierian  spring." 

Such  passages,  lavishly  scattered  through  this  essay, 
illustrate  the  choice  use  of  words,  the  strong  antithe- 
sis, and  the  generally  epigrammatic  character  of  Pope's 
distinctive  style. 


THE   RAPE   OF  THE   LOCK  253 

The  serious  teaching  of  the  poem  is  that  nature  is  the 
only  standard  by  which  to  judge  an  author's  work  :  — 

"  First  follow  Nature  and  your  judgment  frame 
By  her  just  standard,  which  is  still  the  same." 

But,  says  the  poet,  study  nature  as  interpreted  by  the 
rules  of  classic  art :  — 

"  Those  rules  of  old  discovered,  not  devised, 
Are  Nature  still,  but  Nature  methodised. 


Hear  how  learned  Greece  her  useful  rules  indites, 
When  to  repress  and  when  indulge  her  flights. 

Be  Homer's  works  your  study  and  delight  — 

Read  them  by  day,  and  meditate  by  night ; 

Thence  form  your  judgment,  thence  your  maxims  bring, 

And  trace  the  Muses  upward  to  their  spring." 

This  is  a  fair  expression  of  Pope's  artistic  creed ;  he 
followed  it  consistently  to  the  end,  and  in  his  devotion 
to  the  classic  model  —  which,  unfortunately,  he  viewed 
not  directly,  but  through  translation  —  he  imposed  upon 
English  poetry  qualities  which  justify  the  use  of  the 
epithet  artificial,  now  generally  applied  to  his  own 
work  and  that  of  his  school. 

In  1714  appeared  the  Rape  of  the  Lock,  Pope's 
most  brilliant  achievement  during  this  first  TheRape 
period  of  his  career.     This  composition  is  es-  of  the 
teemed  as  the  finest  example  of  the   mock- 
heroic  in  English  verse  —  a  humorous  epic,  half  satire, 
half  burlesque.     The  basis  of  the  poem  is  an  adventure 
of  trivial  character:  a  young  nobleman,  Lord  Petre, 
had  given  offense  to  a  Miss  Fermor  by  stealing  a  lock 
of  her  hair ;  and  out  of  this  lover's  quarrel  developed 
Pope's  sparkling  verse.     No  more  vivacious  trifle  ex- 
ists in  literature  ;  wit,  fancy,  elegant  diction,  have  here 
wrought  to  produce  a  masterpiece  of  the  airiest  type  — 
"  the  most  exquisite  specimen  of  filigree  work  ever  in- 


254  FROM   ADDISON   TO  BURNS 

ven tod."  1  No  better  example  of  the  artificial  style 
can  be  found  than  in  this  poem  as  a  whole.  Coffee  is 
prepared  for  the  entertainment  of  guests,  and  thus  does 
Pope  describe  the  process  of  its  preparation :  — 

"  For  lo,  the  Board  with  cups  and  spoons  is  crowned, 
The  berries  crackle,  and  the  mill  turns  round ; 
On  shining  altars  of  Japan  they  raise 
The  silver  lamp  ;  the  fiery  spirits  blaze  ; 
From  silver  spouts  the  grateful  liquors  glide. 
While  China's  earth  receives  the  smoking  tide." 

The  climax  of  humorous  fancy  is  reached  in  the  ac- 
count of  the  actual  clipping  of  the  lock  and  the  disas- 
ter which  befalls  an  attendant  sylph  who  tries  in  vain 
to  defend  the  heroine  from  loss. 

Two  other  compositions  of  this  period,  the  Elegy  to 
the  Memory  of  an  Unfortunate  Lady  and  the  Epistle 
ofEloise  to  Abelard  (1717),  have  been  classed  justly  as 
rhetorical  poems.2  In  the  one  last  named  Pope  came 
as  near  as  was  possible  for  him  to  the  expression  of 
human  passion  ;  but  his  deficiencies  in  this  field  are 
painfully  evident.  Passion  of  any  kind  lay  outside  the 
experience  of  this  generation,  and  literary  talent  of  the 
age  made  little  attempt  to  reach  its  heights ;  when 
Pope  aspired  to  be  dramatic,  he  produced  only  fervid 
declamation. 

In  the  early  part  of  1713  the  poet  first  met  Jonathan 
Swift,  and  a  friendship  was  begun  which,  un- 
Transiation  like  most  of  Pope's  friendships  with  contem- 
porary men  of  letters,  was  unmarred  by  petty 
quarrels,  and  continued  unbroken  till  the  death  of  the 
poet  in  1744.  There  is  an  interesting  account  by 
Bishop  Kennett  which  describes  a  scene  in  the  ante- 
chamber of  a  Secretary  of  State.  The  room  is  crowded 
with  men  of  note  who  are  waiting  for  an  audience. 

1  William  Hazlitt.  a  Leslie  Stephen. 


POPE'S  TRANSLATION  OF  HOMER  255 

The  great  satirist  is  the  most  conspicuous  figure,  bus- 
tling about,  imparting  advice,  promising  assistance  to 
this  and  that  cause,  whispering  in  the  ear  of  one  great 
man,  browbeating  another ;  all  at  once  he  is  heard  to 
declare  that  the  greatest  poet  in  England,  Mr.  Pope,  a 
Papist,  has  begun  a  translation  of  Homer,  for  which 
subscriptions  must  be  forthcoming ;  "  for,"  says  he, 
"  the  author  shall  not  begin  to  print  till  I  have  a  thou- 
sand guineas  for  him."  The  first  volume  of  Pope's 
Iliad  appeared  in  1715,  the  sixth  and  last  volume  in 
1720.  This  translation  of  the  Iliad  is  commonly  re- 
garded as  Pope's  greatest  work,  but  its  merit  does 
not  lie  in  its  faithfulness  to  the  original ;  many  of 
Pope's  contemporaries  conceded  that.  Richard  Bentley, 
scholar  and  writer,  declared  in  a  phrase  much  quoted, 
that  it  is  "  a  pretty  poem,  Mr.  Pope,  but  you  must  not 
call  it  Homer."  Although  the  spirit  of  the  Greek  poet 
is  absent  in  Pope's  version  of  the  epic,  the  transla- 
tion is,  nevertheless,  a  masterpiece ;  one  critic  *  cites 
the  following  passage  as  unsurpassed  for  finished  ver- 
sification in  English  poetry  :  — 

"  The  troops  exulting,  sat  in  order  round, 
And  beaming  fires  illumined  all  the  ground. 
As  when  the  moon,  refulgent  lamp  of  night, 
O'er  Heaven's  clear  azure  spreads  her  sacred  light, 
When  not  a  breath  disturbs  the  deep  serene, 
And  not  a  cloud  o'ercasts  the  solemn  scene ; 
Around  her  throne  the  vivid  planets  roll, 
And  stars  unnumbered  gild  the  glowing  pole, 
O'er  the  dark  trees  a  yellower  verdure  shed, 
And  tip  with  silver  every  mountain's  head." 

In  this  description  Pope  rises  to  his  highest  reach  of 
power ;  but,  truly,  his  verses  are  not  Homer. 

Strangely  enough  for  one  attempting  such  a  task, 
Pope  was  practically  ignorant  of  Greek.     His  "  trans* 

1  Mark  Pattison. 


256  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

lation  "  is  based  entirely  on  other  renderings,  French 
and  English.  When  he  undertook  the  Odyssey,  the 
poet  secured  the  assistance  of  two  Cambridge  scholars, 
Browne  and  Fenton,  who  performed  at  least  half  the 
work.  So  artificial,  indeed  so  mechanical,  is  the  style 
of  Pope  that  these  minor  writers  were  able  to  imitate 
his  versification  perfectly.  There  is  no  better  evidence 
than  this  of  the  truth  expressed  in  Cowper's  couplet 
upon  the  poets  of  his  time,  who 

"  made  poetry  a  mere  mechanic  art, 
And  every  warbler  had  his  tune  by  heart. " 

Since  the  year  1718  the  poet  had  been  living  at 
Twicken-  Twickenham,  a  pleasant  country  town  upon 
ham-  the  Thames,  not  many  miles  from  London. 

Here  he  occupied  the  villa  made  famous  by  his  resi- 
dence, diverted  himself  with  his  garden  and  his  grotto, 
surrounded  by  that  curious  combination  of  nature  and 
art  so  attractive  to  eighteenth  century  taste.  Here 
Pope  entertained  many  distinguished  guests ;  for  he 
was  now  recognized  as  the  first  of  living  poets,  and 
honored  by  persons  of  distinction  in  all  fields.  Alone 
among  his  contemporaries,  he  gave  himself  wholly  to 
the  vocation  of  letters.  The  French  philosopher  Vol- 
taire paid  him  a  visit.  Henry  St.  John,  Lord  Boling- 
broke,  whom  Pope  addressed  affectionately  as  "  guide, 
philosopher,  and  friend,"  was  for  a  time  his  neighbor, 
and  a  frequent  guest.  So  too  were  Thomson,  the  poet 
of  The  Sai sons,  and  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montague, 
the  most  brilliant  woman  of  that  day.  But  Pope  quar- 
reled outrageously  with  Lady  Mary,  after  having  ad- 
dressed her  in  most  ridiculous  strains  of  gallantry,  and 
in  reply  to  some  coarse  and  insulting  epigrams  was 
described  as  the  "  wicked  little  wasp  of  Twickenham," 
—  an  epithet  which  was  upon  occasion  well  deserved. 


THE   DUNCIAD  257 

There  were  many  littlenesses  in  the  personality  of 
Pope :  his  frail  body  was  full  of  fret ;  he  was  suspi- 
cious, jealous,  and  irritable.  So  full  of  tricks  and 
falsehoods  was  he  that  one  of  his  friends  affirmed  that 
he  never  took  tea  without  a  stratagem.  The  littleness 
and  greatness  of  Pope  appear  equally  in  his  next  im- 
portant work,  The  Dunciad. 

This  famous  satire  had  its  genesis  in  that  association 
of  clever  writers  who  composed  the  Scrib-  Th6 
lerus  Club,  the  inspiration  likewise  of  Swift's  Dunciad- 
Gulliver,  as  well  as  of  the  less  known  satires  of  Ar- 
buthnot,  Atterbury,  Gay,  and  Parnell.  Swift  and 
Pope,  it  is  needless  to  say,  were  the  dominant  spirits 
of  the  coterie.  Gulliver's  Travels  appeared  in  1726, 
and  in  1728  Pope  published  The  Dunciad.  Originally 
in  three  books,  it  was  afterward  revised  and  republished 
with  an  additional  book  in  1742. 

The  immediate  plan  of  the  satire  follows  that  of 
Dryden's  MacFlecknoe.  Its  serious  purpose  is  to 
make  war  upon  the  dunces ;  and  with  all  the  flash  and 
polish  of  his  most  brilliant  style,  Pope  here  pillories 
the  mob  of  minor  poets,  critics,  and  romancers  of 
his  day.  He  has  given  immortality  to  some  names 
that  had  better  been  ignored,  and  incidentally  has 
stooped  to  the  abuse  of  writers  whose  only  fault  was  to 
have  offended  Pope.  With  Addison,  Pope  had  quar- 
reled, over  some  imagined  injury,  years  before ;  the 
essayist  had  been  dead  ten  years  when  The  Dunciad 
was  published ;  yet  the  old  resentment  finds  expression 
in  lines  cruelly  unjust  to  the  memory  of  one  who  had 
befriended  the  poet  in  his  youth,  and  whose  character 
was  happily  beyond  the  reach  of  such  attacks.  There 
is  something  ludicrous  in  this  spectacle  of  genius  em- 
ploying its  greatest  powers  to  square  off  some  petty 
quarrel.     The  second  publication  of   The  Dunciad  af- 


258  FROM  ADDISON   TO  BURNS 

forded  an  opportunity  to  settle  more  accounts.  The 
original  hero  of  the  epic  had  been  Lewis  Theobald, 
who  had  incurred  the  enmity  of  the  poet  by  his  rigor- 
ous criticism  of  Pope's  attempt  to  edit  Shakespeare  in 
1725 ;  but  another  character  was  enthroned  as  hero  in 
the  edition  of  1742,  Colley  Gibber,  the  most  popular 
actor  and  dramatist  of  the  age,  whose  principal  offense 
was  that  in  1730  he  had  received  the  honors  of  poet- 
laureate,  an  office  for  which  he  had  no  qualifications, 
and  which  brought  only  injury  to  his  fame.  Every 
writer  with  whom  Pope  had  ever  had  a  tilt  was  merci- 
lessly lampooned  in  this  epic  of  Duncedom.  At  first 
only  the  initials  of  the  luckless  authors  were  inserted, 
but  afterward  the  names  appeared  in  full,  and  foot- 
notes were  added  which  were  often  libelous  in  their 
assertions.  No  better  essay  in  the  gentle  art  of  making 
enemies  was  ever  devised  than  TJie  Dunciad ;  and  it 
was  characteristic  of  its  author  that  he  took  pains  by 
flattery  and  craft  to  forestall  retaliation  by  resort  to 
law.  Three  prominent  peers  were  prevailed  upon  to 
act  as  nominal  publishers  of  the  work ;  the  king  and 
queen  were  publicly  presented  with  copies,  and  the 
report  was  circulated  that  the  satire  was  issued  under 
the  patronage  of  these  distinguished  personages. 

The  Dunciad  is  a  stronger  work  than  Dryden's 
MacFlecknoe,  but  it  does  not  approach  in  dignity  or 
force  the  great  political  satire  of  Absalom  and  Achito- 
phel.  It  is  pungent  and  polished ;  it  is  also  abusive 
and  malicious.  Although  it  is  common  to  refer  the 
spirit  and  tone  of  this  satire  to  the  influence  of  Jona- 
than Swift,  it  is  impossible  thus  to  excuse  the  virulence 
and  coarseness,  the  petty  personalities  and  rank  injus- 
tice that  inevitably  mar  this  work.  Its  merit  as  litera- 
ture depends  upon  passages  which  are  remarkable  for 
their  skill  in  characterization,  and  upon  that  terse  and 


THE  MORAL   ESSAYS  259 

finished  style  which  gives  distinction  to  all  of  Pope's 
composition. 

The  best  work  of  Pope's  third  period,  the  work  of 
his  later  years,  is  in  the  Moral  Essays,  of  Ti!eMoral 
which  the  Essay  on  Man  is  most  conspicu-  Essays, 
ous.  The  poet  was  now  strongly  influenced  by  his  friend 
Bolingbroke,  the  brilliant  politician  and  former  Secre- 
tary of  State,  who  posed  also  as  a  moralist  and  philoso- 
pher, although  insincere  in  his  professions  of  morality 
and  superficial  in  thought.  Of  Bolingbroke's  philoso- 
phy, however,  Pope  was  a  professed  admirer,  and  it 
was  this  philosophy  which  the  poet  strove  to  embody  in 
his  Essay  on  Man.  The  plan  of  the  work  as  a  whole 
was  ambitious  and  worthy  of  even  greater  genius  than 
that  of  Pope.  It  was  no  less  than  to  develop  a  system 
of  morals  dealing  with  man  in  various  relations,  social, 
political,  and  religious.  Unhappily,  the  defects  of  his 
own  uncertain  logic  betrayed  Pope  into  inconsistencies 
and  falsities.  Even  Bolingbroke  remarked  that  the 
author  of  the  Essay  was  "  a  very  great  wit  and  a  very 
indifferent  philosopher."  The  result  of  the  poet's  rea- 
soning brought  him  to  the  statement  of  blank  panthe- 
ism :  — 

"  All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  Nature  is,  and  God  the  Soul." 

The  central  thesis  of  the  poem,  "  Whatever  is,  is  right," 
admits  of  altogether  too  general  application  for  any 
but  the  most  radical  philosophy ;  and  Pope  was  far 
from  occupying  the  position  into  which  his  real  igno- 
rance of  any  system  had  betrayed  him.  When  accused 
of  heterodoxy,  he  was  amazed ;  and  he  was  inexpres- 
sibly shocked  to  find  his  poem  eulogized  by  Voltaire 
and  applauded  by  the  atheistical  leaders  in  France. 
The  Essay  had  appeared  complete  in  1734,  and  in 
1738  Pope  published  his  Universal  Prayer  to  modify 


260  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

the  impressions  produced  so  generally  by  his  unsuccess- 
ful effort  to 

"  vindicate  the  ways  of  God  to  man." 

In  spite  of  its  errors,  however,  the  Essay  on  Man  is 
an  impressive  composition.  Again  the  poet  displays 
his  consummate  art  in  phrase  and  verse,  the  deft  use 
of  language  that  rivets  the  inevitable  word  in  its  place 
and  turns  a  couplet  or  a  single  line  into  an  epigram  as 
enduring  as  literature  itself. 

"  Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise  ; 
Act  well  your  part :  there  all  the  honor  lies." 

"  For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight ; 
His  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

"  Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien 
As  to  be  hated  needs  but  to  be  seen : 
Yet  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

"  Know  then  thyself,  presume  not  God  to  scan, 
The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 

To  be  sure,  Pope's  treasury  of  wit  includes  little 
more  than  the  commonplace  truisms  of  the  race  ;  he 
acknowledged  as  much  in  a  familiar  couplet,  and  was 
content  to  give  them  a  form  which  might  impress  their 
truthfulness  on  the  minds  of  men.1 

Pope's  other  works  included  satires,  translations, 
Minor  an(l  imitations,  with  occasional  poems  which 

Poems.  ({0  not  call  for  special  notice.  Like  Dryden, 
he  modernized  two  or  three  of  the  Canterbury  Tales, 
but  was  wrise  enough  to  refrain  from  the  attempt,  sug- 
gested by  a  friend  in  the  Scriblerus  Club,  to  "  civilize  " 
the  Samson  Arjonistes. 

1  "  True  wit  is  nature  to  advantage  dressed ; 

What  oft  was  thought,  but  ne'er  so  well  expressed." 

Essay  on  Criticism. 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  261 

In  1744  there  cauie  the  end  to  that  life  which  was 
"  one  long  disease."  Whatever  may  be  the 
feelings  excited  by  those  perversities  of  dis- 
position, the  ill-temper,  the  falsehood,  the  treachery,  of 
this  peculiar  character,  Pope  always  commands  admira- 
tion for  his  persevering  industry  and  brave  resistance 
to  racking  pain.  Johnson  tells  us  that  the  poet  suf- 
fered cruelly  from  headache ;  that  his  frail,  deformed 
body  could  hardly  be  kept  erect  without  the  aid  of  a 
stiff  canvas  bodice  into  which  he  was  laced  every 
morning ;  that  he  could  not  dress  or  undress  without 
assistance.  In  condemning  the  unnaturalness  and  af- 
fectation of  Pope's  literary  style,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  this  was  the  common  fault  of  the  artificial  period 
in  which  he  lived.  His  contemporaries  acknowledged 
his  supremacy.  Addison  and  Swift  placed  him  among 
the  peers  of  song.  In  vivid  portraiture,  in  grace  and 
elegance  of  diction,  in  the  "happiness"  of  phrase, 
which  distinguishes  the  masters  of  wit,  in  the  terse 
vigor  of  his  couplets,  the  correctness  of  his  verse,  in  all 
those  qualities  which  give  distinction  to  poetry  of  the 
second  rank,  Pope  is  preeminent;  upon  this  level  of 
his  art  he  leads.  In  the  progress  of  English  poetry  it 
was  no  misfortune  that  it  should  receive  the  impress 
that  came  from  the  work  of  Alexander  Pope. 

The  Globe  Edition  of  Pope's  Poetical  Works  (Macmil- 
lan)  is  the  best  for  students'  use.  The  Intro-  Suggestions 
ductory  Memoir  by  the  editor,  Mr.  A.  W.  Ward,  for  study- 
should  be  carefully  read.  A  good  volume  of  Selections  from 
the  poet's  works  is  edited  with  notes  by  E.  B.  Reed  (Holt). 
Leslie  Stephen's  Pope,  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series, 
and  W.  J.  Courthope's  Biography  of  the  poet  are  authori- 
tative. Dr.  Johnson  included  Pope  in  his  Lives  of  the 
Poets,  and  there  are  notable  essays  upon  Pope  by  Thackeray, 
in  his  English  Humourists,  Lowell,  in  My  Study  Windows, 


262  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

and  De  Quincey,  in  the  Biographical  Essays.  All  the  promi- 
nent writers  on  eighteenth  century  literature  have  discoursed 
upon  Pope. 

For  special  study  the  student  may  best  select  the  poem 
Windsor  Forest,  the  vivacious  Rape  of  the  Lock,  the  Essay 
on  Criticism,  and  the  Essay  on  Man.  The  peculiarities  of 
Pope's  personality,  the  theories  and  conception  of  his  art, 
held  by  him  and  by  the  writers  generally  of  that  age,  his 
own  methods  of  versification,  the  dash  and  polish  of  his 
style,  together  with  its  limitations  and  its  defects,  will  hardly 
escape  the  observant  reader.  The  reiteration  of  Pope's 
only  metrical  form,  the  heroic  couplet,  will  impress  that 
structure  upon  the  memory  as  the  characteristic  verse  form 
of  the  Augustan  age. 

I.  Windsor  Forest.  As  this  is  largely  a  "  nature  "  poem, 
study  its  descriptive  parts.  How  does  Pope  see  nature,  anil 
what  points  does  he  emphasize  in  description  ?  Recall  the 
studies  of  Chaucer  and  Spenser,  and  compare  the  natural- 
ness and  realism  of  their  pictures  with  those  of  Pope.  Con- 
sider the  "  pastoral "  element  in  this  poem ;  read  Pope's 
Discourse  on  Pastoral  Poetry,  prefixed  to  his  earlier  poems. 
As  you  note  the  incongruities  of  this  composition,  note  also 
passages  which  contain  poetic  beauty.  What  is  the  plan  of 
the  poem  as  a  whole  ? 

II.  The  Rape  of  the  Lock.  This  poem  is  to  be  read, 
of  course,  in  the  spirit  of  the  burlesque  which  it  is,  —  a  form 
of  composition  then  in  great  favor.  Recall  the  success  of 
Butler's  Hudibras  (1663)  and  Swift's  Battle  of  the  Books 
(1704).  Many  interesting  hints  of  contemporary  manners 
and  social  usage  may  be  gathered  from  the  poem ;  the  de- 
scription of  the  belle's  toilette  and  the  account  of  the  game 
at  cards  are  especially  vivacious,  as  well  as  humorous  pic- 
tures of  the  time.  Are  there  not  also  passages  of  real  satire 
in  the  work  ?  What  is  the  tone  of  the  poet's  comments  upon 
woman  ?  Miss  Fermor,  the  heroine  of  the  piece,  was  heart- 
ily out  of  temper  with  the  poet  because  of  his  portraiture : 
was  she  justified  ?  In  its  earlier  form  the  poem  did  not  con- 
tain the  parts  which  introduce  the  sylphs  and  gnomes  ;  this 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  263 

was  an  afterthought  of  the  poet.  Consider  how  much  of  the 
wit  and  elegance  of  this  humorous  masterpiece  is  due  to  their 
airy  presence.      Whence  did  Pope  get  this  idea  ? 

III.  Essay  on  Criticism.  It  would  he  well  to  outline 
the  parts  of  this  essay.  What  is  the  general  topic  considered 
in  the  first  fifty  lines  ?  Note  the  important  place  assigned  to 
nature  in  establishing  the  standards  of  criticism ;  then  note 
how  her  principles  and  laws  are  to  be  interpreted  (lines  88— 
89).  Consider  the  influence  of  the  classic  on  Pope's  thought. 
What  ancient  poets  does  he  propose  as  models  ?  Where  is 
the  error  in  Pope's  theory  (lines  139-140)  ?  What  force  is 
there  in  his  next  suggestion  (lines  152-153)  ?  He  is  still 
speaking  of  the  ancients  :  see  how  he  tempers  his  statement 
(lines  163-166).  In  part  II.  the  poet  warns  the  critics 
against  particular  faults :  what  are  the  errors  thus  enumer- 
ated ?  In  what  sense  does  he  use  the  term  conceit  (line  289), 
the  word  numbers  (line  337),  and  why?  Throughout  the 
poem  the  word  wit  is  frequently  used  in  varying  senses  (as 
in  lines  17,  28,  36,  53,  61,  80,  297);  compare  these  lines  and 
indicate  the  meaning  which  the  poet  intends  the  word  to 
have  in  these  places ;  what  is  the  etymology  and  original 
meaning  of  wit  ?  Point  out  such  marked  illustrations  of 
Pope's  happiness  in  epigram  as  are  found  in  this  poem. 
Study  the  passage  (lines  337-383)  in  which  the  poet  has 
tried  to  express  something  of  the  sense  of  his  verse  through 
its  effect  upon  the  ear ;  see  especially  lines  357,  369-373. 
Occasionally  Pope  breaks  the  monotony  of  the  couplet  by 
adding  a  third  rhyme,  as  in  lines  23-25  ;  where  else  do  you 
discover  this  ?  The  pronunciation  of  that  period  will  account 
for  some  of  Pope's  peculiar  rhymes,  as  none:  own  (lines  9, 
10)  ;  joined:  mankind  (lines  186,  187)  ;  but  defective  lines 
may  be  found,  and  also  constructions  which  are  grammati- 
cally defective,  as  in  the  couplet  (lines  9-10) 

"  'T  is  with  our  judgments  as  our  watches,  none 
Go  just  alike,  yet  each  believes  his  own." 

IV.  Essay  on  Man.     Follow  a  course  similar  to  that 
suggested  in  the  study  of  the  last  poem.     The  Arguments 


264  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

prefixed  to  the  JSpistles  will  help  in  the  analysis.  Why  did 
Pope  address  this  work  to  Lord  Bolinghroke  ?  Look  up  the 
record  of  Bolinghroke's  career  and  find  out  the  facts  of  his 
political  and  literary  achievements. 

Of  the  numerous  minor  poets  who  followed  Pope  in 
his  use  of  the  couplet,  and  who  exhibited  the 
"School"  characteristics  of  the  artificial  school,  the  fol- 
ope-  lowing  are  the  most  prominent.  Matthew 
Prior  (1664-1721)  was  a  poor  boy  in  Dorsetshire 
when  discovered  by  the  Earl  of  Dorset  reading  Horace 
behind  a  tavern  bar.  By  the  generosity  of  that  noble- 
man he  was  sent  to  Cambridge.  Later  he  entered  poli- 
tics, became  Secretary  of  State  for  Ireland,  and  finally 
Ambassador  to  France.  With  Pope  and  Swift  he  joined 
in  the  project  of  the  Scriblerus  Club  and  wrote  satirical 
poems  and  tales.  John  Gay  (1685-1732),  a  member 
of  the  same  distinguished  group,  was  especially  noted 
for  his  Beggar  s  Opera  (1728),  conceived  also  with 
satire  as  its  intent.  His  Shepherd's  Week  (1714) 
consists  of  six  burlesque  pastorals.  Trivia  (1715)  is 
a  satire  upon  city  life.  The  characteristics  of  this 
school  are  found  in  the  work  of  Edward  Young 
(1684—1765).  The  Last  Day,  a  part  of  which  appeared 
in  The  Guardian  (1713),  and  TJie  Universal  Passion, 
a  series  of  satires  (1725-1728),  are  in  the  rhymed  coup- 
let. Night  Thoughts  (1742-1744),  a  lengthy  moral 
essay  in  nine  books,  is  written  in  blank  verse.  It  con- 
tains passages  of  beauty  and  strength,  but  its  impres- 
siveness  is  due  to  its  rhetorical  quality  rather  than  to 
spontaneity  or  passion.  In  the  poetry  of 
Thomson,  James  Thomson,  however,  another  key  is 
struck.  A  real  appreciation  of  nature  gives 
distinction  to  his  Seasons,  —  four  long  poems  in 
blank    verse.     It    is    refreshing    to    find    even    within 


THE   RISE   OF  THE   ENGLISH   NOVEL  265 

the  lifetime  of  Pope  a  spirit  of  simple  pleasure  in  the 
naturalness  of  nature,  such  as  is  conveyed  in  these  lines 
from  Thomson's  Summer:  — 

"  Hence,  let  me  haste  into  the  mid-wood  shade, 
Where  scarce  a  sunheam  wanders  through  the  gloom ; 
And  on  the  dark-green  grass,  heside  the  brink 
Of  haunted  stream,  that  by  the  roots  of  oak 
Rolls  o'er  the  rocky  channel,  lie  at  large, 
And  sing  the  glories  of  the  circling  year." 

Thomson  was  a  Scotchman  ;  a  graduate  of  Edin- 
burgh, he  had  come  to  London  and  was  making  his 
living  as  a  tutor  when  he  found  a  publisher  for  his 
poem  on  Winter,  in  1726.  That  on  Summer  followed 
in  the  next  year,  and  Spring  was  published  the  year 
after.  The  poem  on  Autumn  did  not  appear  until 
1730.  Thomson  wrote  several  plays  and  many  vigor- 
ous songs,  of  which  Rule  Britannia  is  best  known. 
The  Castle  of  Indolence  (1748),  his  last  important 
work,  is  in  the  old  Spenserian  stanza,  and  suggests  the 
indolent  languor  of  its  theme  with  consummate  effect. 
The  charm  of  nature  is  always  present  in  the  poetry  of 
Thomson.  Undisturbed  by  the  tastes  and  influences 
of  the  artificial  school,  he  pursues  his  independent 
course,  and  sounds  the  note  which  grows  clearer  and 
stronger  in  the  latter  half  of  the  century,  until  it  reaches 
its  fullness  of  tone  in  the  songs  of  Robert  Burns. 

III.     THE   RISE   OF   THE   ENGLISH  NOVEL. 

It  is  customary  to  date  the  beginning  of  the  English 
novel  at  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
when  Samuel  Richardson  and  Henry  Fielding  intro- 
duced, to  a  large  and  delighted  circle  of  English  read- 
ers, what  appeared  to  be  a  distinctly  new  form  of 
literary  creation.  But  the  essential  quality  in  all  works 
of  fiction  is  the  story,  and  it  is  to  a  far  earlier  period 


266  FROM  ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

than  this  that  we  must  look  for  origins  in  this  depart- 
ment of  literature. 

The  love  of  the  story  is  as  ancient  as  the  race,  and 
The  Real  the  art  of  story-telling  is  as  old  as  literature. 
Beginnings,  As  we  have  seen,  the  spirit  of  the  story-teller 
held  undisputed  sway  in  Saxon  hall  and  Norman 
castle,  where  gleeman  and  minstrel  moved  their  rough 
audiences  at  will.  The  genius  of  the  true  story-teller 
lived  in  Chaucer ;  indeed  his  sketches  of  the  Canter- 
bury pilgrims,  and  particularly  his  portraitures  of  char- 
acter in  the  metrical  romance  of  Troilus  and  Criseyde, 
bring  his  work  in  very  close  relation  with  the  produc- 
tions of  the  novelists  themselves.  The  prose  romances 
of  the  Elizabethan  age,  the  artificial  compositions  of 
John  Lyly,  of  Sidney,  of  Lodge,  and  of  Nash,  together 
with  the  scores  of  imitations  and  translations  which 
were  in  vogue  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
exhibit  comparatively  little  of  that  realistic  quality 
essential  to  the  novel.  The  spirit  of  these  narratives 
was  frankly  unreal,  and  the  art  of  the  Elizabethan 
romancer  was  directed  as  far  as  possible  away  from  the 
realities  of  common  experience.  The  creations  of  the 
great  dramatists  were  infinitely  nearer  the  life  of  hu- 
manity. Nature,  if  she  found  any  interpreter  at  all, 
spoke  not  in  the  romance  but  in  the  play.  There  was, 
however,  one  development  of  the  fictitious  narrative  in 
that  age  which  was  significant  of  a  new  interest  in  the 
details  of  real  life.  This  we  find  in  the  rogue  romance, 
a  natural  outgrowth  of  the  older  romance  of  chivalry, 
which  had  supplied  the  Spanish  and  Italian  models  for 
Sidney's  Arcadia  and  the  works  of  that  class.  In  both 
Spain  and  Italy  these  rogue  stories  were  extremely 
popular.  The  hero  of  the  adventures  recounted  was 
always  a  rascal,  clever,  impudent,  immoral ;  his  career 
was  one  of  intrigue  and  scandal.     The  Spanish  word 


DANIEL   DEFOE  267 

picaro  (rogue)  gave  to  this  group  of  stories  the  name 
picaresque;  and  by  this  name  they  are  usually  de- 
scribed. Numerous  translations  of  Italian  novelle  had 
made  the  material  familiar  to  English  readers,  and  the 
romance  of  roguery  became  popular  in  England. 

The  Pilgrim's  Progress  may,  in  a  way,  be  identified 
by  its  method  with  this  class  of  works,  how-  Fore. 
ever  widely  divergent  in  spirit  and  tone.  At  J"1""16"- 
all  events,  Bunyan's  hero,  struggling  amid  the  perils 
of  the  world,  was  a  very  real  character  to  the  devout 
Puritan  who  eagerly  turned  its  pages.  Many  a  pious 
reader  of  that  day,  with  head  bent  over  the  record  of 
Christian's  falls  and  Christian's  triumphs,  must  have 
whispered  softly  to  himself,  while  tears  rolled  down  his 
cheeks,  "  It  is  I ;  it  is  I !  "  Hardly  more  than  a  step 
was  needed  to  usher  in  the  novel :  that  was  to  drop  the 
allegory  and  to  describe  men  and  women  in  the  rela- 
tions familiar  to  us  and  amid  the  surroundings  of  the 
world  in  which  we  live.  Still  more  significant  of  the 
coming  narrative  than  even  the  story  of  Bunyan's  pil- 
grim was  the  appearance  of  that  genuine  character 
from  English  country  life  discovered  by  Steele  and 
Addison.  Sir  Eoger  de  Coverley  is  one  of  the  per- 
sonalities of  English  fiction,  although  the  portraiture 
is  presented  only  in  a  series  of  sketches,  and  belongs 
neither  to  the  novel  nor  the  stage.  But  a  real  beginning 
in  the  art  of  novel  writing  was  made  when,  in  1719, 
Daniel  Defoe  published  his  inimitable  narrative,  Rob- 
inson Crusoe. 

Defoe  was  a  prominent  figure  among  the  busy  men 
of  letters  who,  by  their  intellectual  strength   Daniel 
and  the  elaborate  elegance  of  their  literary   Defoe, 
form,  gave  character  to  English  literature  in 
the  age  of  Anne.     He  was  not  only  contemporary  with 
Addison,  Steele,  and  Swift,  but  was  engaged  in  the 


268  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

same  political  battles ;  his  interests  were  as  keen,  his 
services  perhaps  as  notable  as  theirs.  Like  the  rest 
he  was  a  moralist,  and  although  less  skillful  than  they, 
used  satire  as  his  weapon.  Yet  while  thus  employed, 
sometimes  opposing  them,  sometimes  cooperating  with 
them,  he  was  never  personally  of  them.  By  birth  and 
inclination  Defoe  was  democratic.  His  father  was  a 
butcher,  plain  James  Foe,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  pre- 
fix to  the  family  name,  which  for  some  shrewd  reason 
his  son  assumed  when  about  forty  years  of  age.  Self- 
reliant,  courageous,  enterprising,  inventive,  Daniel  De- 
foe made  the  interests  of  the  people  his  study.  In- 
deed he  did  this  often  to  his  own  disadvantage,  for  his 
personal  interests  were  sometimes  sacrificed  or  for- 
gotten, and  business  failures  were  frequent  incidents 
in  his  peculiar  career. 

Defoe's  parents  were  well-to-do  people  of  the  trading 
Personal  class,  living  in  London,  where  he  was  born  in 
Career.  1659  or  1660.  Although  never  in  attendance 
at  either  of  the  universities,  Daniel  Defoe  received  a 
good  education  at  an  academy  in  Newington,  then 
under  the  direction  of  Charles  Morton,  "  a  rank  Inde- 
pendent," as  his  enemies  called  him,  who  in  1685  emi- 
grated to  America,  and  eventually  became  vice-presi- 
dent of  Harvard  College.  Defoe  seems  to  have  been 
blessed  with  an  inquisitive  mind,  and  to  have  been  curi- 
ously concerned  to  elucidate  his  own  theories  and  correct 
the  opinions  of  others.  With  astonishing  energy  he 
threw  himself  into  the  active  life  of  his  age,  won  fame 
as  a  political  writer,  both  in  pamphlets  and  periodicals, 
established  one  of  the  first  newspapers,  the  little  Re- 
view, which  he  conducted  for  some  eight  or  nine  years, 
moralized  in  print  upon  almost  every  conceivable 
theme,  composed  ballads  and  satires,  which  won  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  and  at  sixty  years  of  age  made 


« 


iiilii 


REPRODUCTION    OF   ORIGINAL    FRONTISPIECE    IN    FIRST   EDITION 
OF   ROBINSON   CRUSOE    (1719) 


270  FROM   ADDISON  TO   BURNS 

his  name  immortal  b}r  writing  a  story  which,  if  not 
actually  the  first  English  novel,  still  holds  its  place 
among  the  finest  achievements  in  English  fiction. 

The  narrative  of  Robinson  Crusoe  is  based  upon  the 
Robinson  story  of  Alexander  Selkirk,  a  Scotch  sailoi\ 
Crusoe.  wj10  jia(j  Deen  abandoned  by  his  comrades  on 
the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez,  off  the  coast  of  Chili. 
There  he  had  remained  solitary  for  five  weary  years, 
although  he  had  succeeded  by  his  skill,  and  with  the 
cooperation  of  nature,  in  providing  not  a  few  comforts 
in  the  midst  of  his  solitude.  In  1711  he  was  discovered 
and  brought  back  to  England,  where  his  story  soon 
became  known  and  attracted  much  curious  attention. 
He  remained  for  a  time  in  Bristol,  and  thither  went 
Daniel  Defoe  to  see  him,  probably  soon  after  his  re- 
turn ;  at  this  meeting  he  secured  all  of  Selkirk's  papers. 
At  about  the  same  period  Richard  Steele  interviewed 
Selkirk,  and  printed  an  account  of  the  latter's  adven- 
tures in  his  paper  The  Englishman.  Defoe  made  no 
use  of  his  material  for  several  years,  but,  in  1719,  pub- 
lished his  great  story.  This  volume  at  once  took  its 
place  by  the  side  of  Bunyan's  book  as  one  of  the  peo- 
ple's classics.  The  publisher  cleared  £1000.  Edition 
followed  edition.  Several  spurious  abridgments  were 
published.  A  whole  literature  of  adventure  followed, 
and,  even  in  Europe,  numerous  fictitious  accounts  sug- 
gested by  Defoe's  narrative  enjoyed  a  continuous  suc- 
cess. All  classes  of  readers  were  fascinated  by  this 
work.  Within  four  months  the  book  had  reached  its 
fourth  edition,  and  since  the  day  of  its  appearance  its 
popularity  has  never  waned.  "  Was  there  ever  any- 
thing written  by  man,"  said  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  next 
generation,  "  that  was  wished  longer  by  its  readers  ex- 
cept Don  Quixote,  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  The  Pil- 
grims Progress  ?  " 


OTHER  NARRATIVES  271 

It  is  important  to  know  the  secret  of  Defoe's  power 
as  a  writer  of  fiction.  Wherein  lay  the  mas-  The  Realism 
tery  that  could  create  such  absorbing  inter-  ot  Defoe- 
est  ?  The  key  to  Defoe's  success  is  found  in  his  minute 
attention  to  detail.  He  had  the  ability,  as  few  writers 
have  possessed  it,  to  place  himself  in  the  situation  of 
his  characters,  to  see  and  think  and  feel,  with  them. 
Placed  thus  and  thus,  he  would  reason,  what  should  I 
desire  and  how  should  I  provide  ?  And  so  he  became 
fertile  in  expedients.  No  one  can  forget  the  feeling  of 
isolation  experienced  in  common  with  his  shipwrecked 
sailor,  nor  the  self-congratulation  that  follows  the  safe 
arrival  of  each  necessary  article  brought  from  the 
wreck  to  increase  the  little  store  in  Crusoe's  cabin. 
The  critic  Minto  points  out  Defoe's  discovery  that 
narrative  should  be  plain  rather  than  adorned.  He 
chose  the  simplest  language  at  command  and  thus  at- 
tained "  the  dullness  of  truth." 

In  1722  Defoe  published  his  Journal  of  the  Plague 
Year.  He  had  been  but  a  boy  of  five  when  other  Nar. 
this  dreadful  visitation  ravaged  the  city  of  ratives. 
London,  and  could  have  recalled  little  or  nothing  of 
that  event ;  but  his  account  is  so  minutely  circumstan- 
tial and  so  vivid  in  its  simple,  commonplace  details, 
that  it  has  been  accepted,  often,  as  a  genuine  diary  of 
the  time.  The  Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier  (1720)  is  pos- 
sibly an  historical  work ;  it  was  quoted  as  history  by 
Lord  Chatham  in  Parliament :  but  it  is  written  in  the 
same  form  of  personal  biography  which  we  find  in  De- 
foe's fictions,  and,  even  if  based  on  fact,  owes  its  effect 
to  the  extraordinary  realistic  power  of  its  author.  Dur- 
ing the  five  years  following  the  appearance  of  Crusoe, 
in  addition  to  the  two  works  just  named,  Defoe  pub- 
lished four  lengthy  narratives  remarkable  for  their  real- 
istic power.     These  were  :   The  Life,  Adventures  and 


272  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

Piracies  of  the  Famous  Captain  Singleton  (1720), 
Moll  Flanders  (1722),  The  History  of  Colonel  Jaeque 
(1722),  and  Ro.ua/at  (The  Fortunate  Mistress) 
(1724).  A  half  dozen  minor  narratives,  including  ac- 
counts of  the  highwayman  Jack  Sheppard,  the  French 
criminal  Cartouche,  and  "  the  Highland  Rogue,"  Rob 
Roy,  belong  to  the  same  period.  As  will  be  readily 
seen,  these  works  represent  the  picaresque  type  of  lit- 
erature. Moll  Flanders  is  the  portraiture  of  a  com- 
mon thief,  who  escapes  from  Newgate,  is  transported  to 
America,  there  reforms,  and  writes  the  record  of  her 
career.  Roxana  depicts  the  character  of  a  notorious 
courtesan  and  is  a  study  of  crime  in  aristocratic  circles. 
The  hero  of  Colonel  Jaeque  was  born  a  gentleman,  put 
apprentice  to  a  pickpocket,  was  six  and  twenty  years 
a  thief.  In  people  of  the  criminal  class  Defoe  took  a 
curious  interest ;  his  acquaintance  with  their  experi- 
ences, both  as  rogues  and  as  penitents,  probably  began 
during  his  confinement  in  Newgate  as  a  political  offender 
in  1703-4.  In  all  these  tales  the  author  appears  as  a 
rigid  moralist,  inculcating  lessons  of  warning  skimmed 
from  the  experience  of  vice. 

"  Every  wicked  reader,"  runs  the  preface  to  Colonel 
Jaeque,  "  will  here  be  encouraged  to  a  change  ;  and  it  will 
appear  that  the  best  and  oidy  good  end  of  a  wicked  and  mis- 
spent life  is  repentance." 

This  is  the  burden  of  Moll  Flanders'  message  ;  and 
thus  these  characters  preach  to  the  end.  Of  all  these 
works  J/oll  Flanders  is  the  most  realistic  ;  by  some 
critics  it  is  given  the  highest  place  in  the  fiction  of 
realism,  although  in  popular  interest  it  cannot  compare 
with  Defoe's  real  masterpiece,  Robinson  Crusoe. 

Defoe  continued  active  in  politics  to  the  last.  In 
spite  of  his  literary  success   his  business  affairs  were 


THE   NOVEL  273 

generally  in  confusion,  and  he  was  often  in  sore  straits 
because  of  his  creditors.  The  close  of  his  life  is  ob- 
scure, but  he  was  in  hiding,  even  from  the  members  of 
his  own  family,  when  his  death  occurred  in  London,  in 
1731.  His  wonderful  activity  as  a  writer  is  proved  by 
the  fact  that  his  publications  numbered  no  less  than 
250  distinct  works. 

Strictly  speaking,  Defoe's  imaginative  compositions 
are  not  novels,  although  their  material  is  drawn 
from  real  life.  They  are  rather  narratives  of 
adventure,  in  which  the  interest  is  aroused  by  the  succes- 
sion of  incidents  rather  than  by  any  substantial  study 
of  manners  or  character.  Now  the  novel  as  a  specific 
art  form  is  distinctively  a  picture  of  life  in  its  actual 
experiences,  grave  or  gay,  familiar  or  extraordinary.  It 
always  includes  the  presentation  of  character  that  is, 
or  has  been,  or  might  be  real.  In  its  highest  devel- 
opment the  novel  proposes  a  more  or  less  accurate 
study  of  how  cause  and  effect  apply  in  the  moulding  of 
character.  The  novel  may  exhibit  extreme  ingenuity 
and  dramatic  intensity  of  situation  and  plot,  but  it 
must  not  depend  upon  these  alone  for  its  interest ;  and 
there  are  obvious  bounds  of  probability  and  taste  which 
must  not  be  transgressed.  Moreover,  it  must  possess 
artistic  form.  Starting  with  a  given  situation  it  should 
proceed  logically  and  naturally  to  its  inevitable  con- 
clusion, which  is  developed  through  the  influence  of 
character  upon  character,  plus  the  dominating  power 
of  incident  and  fate.  The  narrative  throughout  must 
be  a  unit ;  the  motive  forces  should  not  be  so  numer- 
ous as  to  distract  attention  from  the  one  central  idea 
which  controls  our  interest.  Unity  is  for  the  most 
part  secured  by  deftly  weaving  the  threads  of  individ- 
ual fortune  into  a  compact  strand  ;  and  this  is  com- 
monly achieved   by  developing   a  close   interrelation 


274  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

between  the  subordinate  personages  and  the  principal 
personage,  the  hero  or  heroine,  of  the  story.  There 
should  be  no  episodes  or  side-trackings  in  the  progress 
of  the  plot.  Incidents  should  be  introduced  because 
necessary  to  the  narrative,  and  so  arranged  as  to  stimu- 
late interest  as  the  tale  proceeds.  The  novelist  must 
appreciate  the  laws  of  climax  and  dramatic  effect.  In 
the  largest  sense  of  the  word,  lie  must  be  an  artist. 
One  might  go  on  to  say  that  the  novelist  needs  also  to 
be  a  clear-sighted,  clear-brained  philosopher ;  for  how 
otherwise  may  he  assume  to  hold  the  mirror  up  to  na- 
ture and  say,  Behold  things  as  they  are ! 

Not  all  of  these  requirements,  it  is  true,  are  met  in  the 
Samuel  works  of  Samuel  Richardson ;  nevertheless, 
Richard-       ^he   quality   of   his  work  is  such  that  he  is 

son,  1689-  u  J 

1761.  usually  named  the  first  English  novelist ;  and 

his  narrative  Pamela,  published  in  1740,  is  accepted 
as  the  first  real  English  novel.  Like  Defoe,  Richard- 
son belonged  to  the  trading  class.  He  was  a  printer 
and  publisher.  He  early  developed  a  genius  for  corre- 
spondence, and  there  is  a  familiar  story  which  states 
that  he  wrote  the  love  letters  of  two  or  three  young 
women  with  whom  he  was  intimately  acquainted.  His 
life  is  devoid  of  any  public  interest  until  the  advent  of 
his  fiftieth  year,  when  two  booksellers  proposed  to 
Richardson  that  he  should  write  a  little  book  in  the 
form  of  a  series  of  letters  dealing  with  the  affairs  of 
daily  life.  These  letters  were  to  serve  as  models  in 
letter  writing  for  those  who  had  not  acquired  the  art. 
Then  it  was  that  this  sedate  printer  caught  the  idea  of 
embodying  vital  interest  and  practical  admonition  in 
the  execution  of  the  plan.  Basing  his  plot  upon  the 
.u  I  venture  of  a  young  woman  whose  experience  had 
come  to  him  through  the  anecdote  of  a  friend,  he  wrote 
the  story  of  Pamela,  or  Virtue  Rewarded. 


SAMUEL   RICHARDSON  275 

Defoe  Lad  employed  in  his  stories  the  machinery  of 

a  fictitious  autobiography.     Richardson   fol- 

Pamela, 
lowed  the  same  method,  but  threw  his  mate- 
rial into  the  form  of  correspondence.  Pamela  An« 
drews,  the  heroine  of  the  novel,  is  left,  through  the 
death  of  a  good  woman  who  has  befriended  her,  some- 
what in  the  power  of  her  benefactress's  son.  This  gen- 
tleman, a  type  of  the  fashionable  man  of  the  world  in 
that  day,  makes  various  assaults  upon  the  honor  of 
the  young  woman,  whose  character  is  exemplary,  and 
who  successfully  repulses  his  advances,  while  compelled 
by  circumstances  to  submit  to  endless  persecution. 
Finally,  however,  Pamela's  virtue  is  "  rewarded  "  by  the 
complete  conversion  of  the  reprobate,  "  Mr.  B.,"  and 
the  offer  of  an  honorable  marriage,  which  the  heroine 
modestly  and  gratefully  accepts.  The  novel  is  prolix 
to  tediousness  ;  yet  it  is  marked  by  some  obvious  ex- 
cellencies. It  shows  ingenuity  of  invention,  its  action 
is  consistent,  and  there  is  a  close  and  realistic  study  of 
details.  The  story  of  Pamela  aroused  an  intense  in- 
terest, and  the  novel  received  enthusiastic  welcome. 
Clarissa  Harlowe  was  published  in  1748.     In  this 

novel   Richardson  describes   another  contest  „.  .     . 

Richard- 

between  vice  and  virtue.  This  heroine  has  to  son's  Later 
contend  against  the  brutality  of  her  own 
heartless  relatives,  who  insist  upon  her  marriage  with 
a  man  whom  she  detests ;  her  trials  are  intensified  by 
the  persistent  persecution  of  the  profligate  Lovelace, 
who  represents  the  type  of  the  cruelly  selfish  and  licen- 
tious man  of  fashion  in  that  era.  Richardson's  sym- 
pathy with  womanhood  was  genuine  and  intelligent; 
his  constant  recognition  of  woman's  dignity  and  rights 
is  a  conspicuous  quality  in  his  works.  The  novelist 
attempted  finally  to  give  to  the  world  his  conception 
of  the  "  gentleman  ;  "  and  in  the   novel   Sir  Charles 


276  FROM  ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

Grandison  (1753),  he  paints  "  a  man  of  true  honor  " 
as  he  understands  him. 

"  Could  he  be  otherwise  than  the  best  of  husbands,  wbo 
was  the  most  dutiful  of  sons ;  who  is  the  most  affectionate 
of  brothers  ;  the  most  faithful  of  friends  ;  who  is  good  upon 
principle  in  every  relation  of  life  ?  " 

Thus  exclaims  the  hero's  wife,  when,  at  the  comple- 
tion of  the  story,  she  too  is  rewarded  for  her  virtues 
by  the  bestowal  of  this  paragon  upon  herself. 

Henry  Fielding,  contemporary  and  literary  rival  of 
He  Richardson,  was  a  man  of  very  different  type. 

Fielding,  He  was  of  an  aristocratic  family,  had  been 
educated  at  Eton,  and  had  studied  law  at 
Leyden.  He  was  a  writer  of  comic  plays,  lived  a 
gay,  reckless  life,  and  in  three  years  had  squandered 
his  own  and  his  wife's  property.  Although  admitted 
to  the  bar  in  1740,  he  was  never  successful  as  a  lawyer. 
Fielding  became  a  writer  to  support  his  family  ;  he  be- 
came a  novelist  to  ridicule  the  author  of  Pamela.  It 
was  natural  that  Fielding  should  laugh  at  Richardson. 
The  latter  writer,  while  an  apt  moralist,  was  not  a 
skillful  artist ;  with  Fielding  this  comparison  was  quite 
reversed.  He  perceived  that  Richardson's  characters 
were  not  natural^  and  seized  his  opportunity.  Joseph 
Andrews  (1742)  was  begun  as  a  parody  on  Pamela. 
In  Fielding's  story  Joseph  is  presented  as  the  brother 
of  Richardson's  heroine,  and  is  discovered  under  cir- 
cumstances similar  to  those  in  which  the  girl  was 
placed,  with  a  complete  reversal  of  conditions.  Jo- 
Beph's  master  has  died,  and  it  is  the  widow  who  perse- 
cutes the  young  man  with  her  attentions.  The  story 
turns  upon  Joseph's  rejection  of  her  overtures,  and  the 
various  fortunes  and  misfortunes  of  the  hero  until  hap- 
pily married  to  the  girl  of  his  own  choice.     Fortunately 


HENRY  FIELDING  277 

for  Fielding's  fame  as  a  novelist,  he  seems  quickly  to 
have  forgotten  his  first  object,  that  of  ridicule,  and  to 
have  become  honestly  interested  in  the  fortunes  of  his 
characters.  He  depicted  them  with  the  untrammeled 
freedom  and  boisterous  vigor  of  his  day.  The  novel  is 
coarse  if  judged  by  the  standards  of  the  present ;  but  it 
is  brimful  of  nature,  and  faithfully  reflects  the  spirit 
of  English  life  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Fielding  had 
discovered  his  power,  and  his  next  novel,  Tom  Jones 
(1749),  surpassed  in  every  point  the  novel  already  de- 
scribed. Tom  Jones  is  always  placed  among  the  best 
novels  ever  written  ;  but  it  must  be  judged,  morally,  by 
the  standard  of  its  age.  It  is  marked  by  the  same 
blunt  realism  which  colors  Joseph  Andrews.  The  hu- 
mor is  coarse,  though  genuine.  The  manners  depicted 
are  usually  the  bad  manners  of  that  generation,  and 
the  "  virtues  "  of  the  hero  are  by  no  means  those  of 
Sir  Charles  Grandison.  But  again  Fielding  was  faith- 
ful to  nature  in  his  portraiture.  He  produced  real 
characters.  The  personality  of  Squire  Western,  and 
that  of  Tom  Jones  himself,  are  irresistible,  and  will 
always  remain  distinct  figures  among  the  great  crea- 
tions of  English  novelists.  In  Amelia  (1751),  Field- 
ing's last  novel,  he  presents  a  portrait  of  his  wife,  who 
had  died  several  years  before ;  some  qualities  of  her 
personality  had  previously  been  portrayed  in  the  char- 
acter of  Sophia,  the  heroine  of  Tom  Jones. 

Fielding's  part  in  the  development  of  the  realistic 
novel  is  most  important.  He  started  it  upon  its  great 
career.  Thoroughly  in  love  with  life  himself,  blessed 
with  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  filled  with  an  excess  of 
physical  vigor  and  healthy  animal  spirit,  he  had  no  pa- 
tience with  the  sentimentalist  or  the  professional  moral- 
ist, although  he  always  claimed  that  his  novels,  as  well 
as  his  plays,  were  intended  to  produce  a  distinctly  moral 


278  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

effect.  Theoretically,  he  denied  that  the  "  hero  "  ex- 
ists, and  made  no  effort  to  gloss  the  defects  and  vices 
of  his  characters. 

In  the  works  of  Smollett  the  picaresque  quality  is 

again  dominant.     This  writer  was  a  Scotch 
Smollett,       surgeon,  with  a  taste  for  adventure,  who  had 

served  for  four  years  on  one  of  the  king's 
ships.  His  knowledge  of  the  sea  and  of  the  sailor's 
life  supplied  him  material  for  his  most  important  char- 
acters, all  of  which  belong  to  the  eccentric  type.  His 
first  novel,  Roderick  fi  dndom,  was  published  in  1748; 
Peregrine  Pickle  (1751),  a  more  vigorous  work,  is 
disfigured  by  the  immoral  character  of  its  hero,  but 
presents  one  of  Smollett's  most  successful  portraitures, 
the  eccentric  character  of  Commodore  Trunnion. 
Other  novels  followed,  including,  as  the  most  impor- 
tant, Ferdinand,  Count  Fathom  (1754),  Sir  Launce- 
lot  Graves,  (1762),  and  Humphrey  Clinker  (1771). 
These  all  illustrate  the  literature  of  roguery,  and  owe 
tnore  to  the  influence  of  the  French  story-teller  Le 
Sage  than  to  Fielding. 

Sterne  was  an  Irishman  and  an  officer  in  the  army : 

later    he    entered    the    Church    and    became 

Laurence 

sterne,  Prebend  of  York.  The  six  volumes  of  his 
1713-68.  published  sermons,  however,  are  less  known 
than  his  humorous  fiction  The  Life  and  Opinions  of 
Tristram  Shandy,  Gentleman.  It  is  impossible  to 
describe  this  whimsical  work  as  a  novel,  for  it  is  a 
cleverly  constructed  series  of  sketches  (originally  in 
nine  volumes)  which  detail  with  great  accuracy  and 
minute  circumstance  the  incidents  attending  the  na- 
tivity of  Tristram  Shandy  :  the  hero  of  the  story  docs 
not  appear  in  his  own  proper  person,  except  as  narrator 
of  this  unique  autobiography.  The  character  painting 
is  excellent,  the  personality  of  Uncle  Toby  standing 


THE   VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD  279 

out  above  and  beyond  the  rest.  Uncle  Toby,  who  still 
suffers  with  the  wound  received  in  the  French  wars, 
yet  so  patient  of  injuries  that  he  would  not  harm  a  fly, 
—  Uncle  Toby,  the  innocent  victim  of  the  wily  Widow 
Wadman,  —  Uncle  Toby  and  his  body  servant  Corporal 
Trim  —  as  much  a  part  of  Uncle  Toby  as  is  the  latter's 
wig  or  stick,  —  this  amiable,  honest,  brave,  sentimental 
Uncle  Toby  is  one  of  the  best-drawn  characters  in 
eighteenth  century  fiction.  Sterne  completed  his  story 
but  a  year  before  his  death.  One  other  work,  TJie 
Sentimental  Journey,  is  marked  by  the  same  peculiar 
qualities  which  distinguish  Tristram  Shandy ;  an  arti- 
ficial sentiment  pervades  them  both. 

In   1766,  when   Laurence  Sterne  was  just   putting 
final  touches  upon    Tristram   Shandy,  there 

stole  quietly  into  the  ranks  of  English  fiction   Vicarof 

ill  ill  i    Wakefield, 

a  genuine  novel,  a  book   more  notable  and 

more  important,  far,  than  that  of  Sterne  in  its  influence 
upon  modern  fiction.  This  was  Goldsmith's  clever 
story  TJie  Vicar  of  Wakefield  —  our  first  real  novel  of 
domestic  life.  "  There  are  an  hundred  faults  in  this 
thing,"  said  Goldsmith,  with  naive  shrewdness,  in  his 
preface  ;  "  but,"  he  added,  "  a  book  may  be  very  amus- 
ing with  numerous  errors,  or  it  may  be  very  dull  with- 
out a  single  absurdity."  The  novel  proved  his  assertion. 
There  is  no  lack  of  life  interest  in  this  panorama  of 
an  English  home,  with  its  little  epic  of  struggle  and 
triumph  through  the  experiences  of  common  life.  The 
patient  vicar,  who  endures  his  share  of  trouble  with 
fortitude  and  faith,  is  an  attractive  figure  to  novel 
readers  still.  It  is  a  family  record,  quietly  humorous,, 
in  its  simple  routine ;  with  its  sensations  and  its  crises 
also,  but  without  brutality,  without  indecency,  to  mar 
the  wholesome  current  of  its  course.  In  spite  of  tech- 
nical faults  in  the  construction  of  the  plot,  this  book 


280  FROM  ADDISON  TO  BURNS 

had  a  strong  influence  on  subsequent  works.  In  Ger- 
many it  produced  a  great  impression  upon  Goethe  and 
his  contemporaries.  Its  appearance  really  marks  an 
epoch  in  English  fiction,  for  it  opened  an  entirely  new- 
field  to  the  novelist  and  supplied  a  model  for  what  we 
now  regard  as  the  best  expression  of  his  art. 

For  general  reference  in  the  historical  study  of  the  novel, 
Bituio-  Masson's  British  Novelists  and  their  Styles,  Tuck- 

giaphy.  erman's  History  of  Prose  Fiction,  and  Dunlop's 
History  of  Fiction  are  standard  works.  The  English 
Novel,  by  Walter  Raleigh  (Scribners),  A  Study  of  Prose  Fic- 
tion, by  Bliss  Perry  (Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.),  and  The  De- 
velopment of  the  English  Novel,  by  "Wilbur  L.  Cross  (Macmil- 
lan),  are  the  most  helpful  of  recent  books  upon  this  subject. 
The  English  Novel  in  the  Time  of  Shakespeare,  by  J.  J. 
Jusserand  (Putnam),  is  a  most  interesting  discussion  of  the 
period  indicated.  The  later  development  is  covered  in 
William  Forsythe's  Novels  and  Novelists  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century.  Simonds'  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  English 
Fiction  (Heath)  contains  a  brief  historical  review,  and  also 
illustrative  selections  from  the  story-tellers  from  the  time  of 
the  Anglo-Saxons  down  to  that  of  Sterne.  The  Art  of 
Fiction,  by  W.  D.  Howells,  The  Novel :  What  It  Is,  by 
F.  Marion  Crawford,  and  The  Experimental  Novel,  by 
Emile  Zola,  are  interesting  essays  by  the  novelists  them- 
selves. 

In  biography,  the  student  will  find  lives  of  Defoe,  Fielding, 
Sterne,  and  Goldsmith  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  ; 
of  Smollett  and  Goldsmith  in  the  Great  Writers  Series. 
H.  D.  Traill's  The  New  Fiction,  and  Other  Essays  contain*, 
an  essay  upon  Samuel  Richardson,  and  also  one  on  The 
Novel  of  Manners.  There  is  a  critical  study  of  Richardson 
in  Leslie  Stephen's  Hours  in  a  Library.  In  the  September, 
1893,  number  of  the  Century  Magazine  there  is  an  article 
by  Mrs.  Oliphant  upon  The  Author  of  Robinson  Crusoe; 
and  in  Scribner's  Magazine  for  the  same  date  a  paper  by 
Austin  Dobson  on  Richardson  at  Home.    Sir  Walter  Scott's 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON  281 

Lives  of  the  Novelists  includes  sketches  of  Richardson,  Field- 
ing, Smollett,  and  Sterne.  Thackeray's  English  Humour- 
ists gives  a  vivacious  picture  of  these  men  and  of  their  age. 
Saintsbury's  Introduction  to  the  Works  of  Henry  Fielding 
and  the  chapter  on  Fielding  in  G.  B.  Smith's  Poets  and 
Novelists  should  be  read.  There  is  a  life  of  Smollett  by 
David  Hannay,  and  one  of  Sterne  by  H.  D.  Traill. 

IV.     ESSAYISTS   OF   THE   SECOND    HALF. 

Among  English  men  of  letters  in  the  second  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  the  dominant  figure  Samuel 
is  that  of  Samuel  Johnson,  booksellers'  hack,   Johnson, 
parliamentary  reporter,  writer  of  the  Rambler 
and  the  Idler  essays,  compiler  of  the  great  English 
Dictionary,  author  of  Rasselas  and  the  Lives  of  Eng- 
lish Poets ;  observer,  moralist,  and  critic ;  ponderous, 
sententious,  irascible,  domineering,  honest  old  Doctor 
Johnson,  the  dictator  in  literary  art  for  his  generation ; 
less  read,  perhaps,  than  any  other  great  writer  of  that 
century,  and  yet  better  known  to  posterity  than  any 
other  eighteenth  century  essayist.     "  The  memory  of 
other  authors,"  says  Macaulay,  "  is  kept  alive  by  their 
works.     But  the  memory  of  Johnson  keeps  many  of 
his  works  alive." 

Samuel  Johnson  was  born  at  Lichfield,  in  Stafford- 
shire, where  his  father,  Michael  Johnson,  was 

•  lii-ii  n  i    Early Uie- 

a  stationer  and  a  dealer  in  books,  well  reputed 

for  his  learning,  but  eccentric  and  unlucky  in  trade. 

Like  Pope,  Johnson  was  a  frail,  sickly  child,  afflicted 

with  St.  Vitus's  dance  and  tainted  with  scrofula.     He 

never  attained  good  health  ;  his  huge,  overgrown  frame 

rolled  in  his  chair,  he  shuffled  and  stumbled  in  his  gait, 

he  was  always  troubled  with  nervous  twitchings  which 

distorted  the  muscles  of  his  face,  and  was  subject  to 

fits  of  morbid  melancholy  which,  as  he  declared,  kept 

him  mad  half  his  life.     The  Lichfield  bookseller  was 


282  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

hardly  in  a  position  to  give  his  son  a  university  career, 
but  the  boy  learned  Latin  in  the  Lichfield  school  and 
browsed  among-  his  father's  books.  A  chance  discovery 
of  a  copy  of  Plutarch1  s  Lives  aroused  a  passion  for 
classical  learning;  and,  with  some  assistance,  Johnson 
was  sent  to  Oxford  in  1729  and  entered  as  a  student 
in  Pembroke  College.  At  the  time  of  his  entrance  he 
was  distinguished  for  his  familiarity  with  numerous 
Latin  texts  not  commonly  read ;  and  he  soon  attracted 
attention  by  the  excellence  of  his  Latin  translations. 
Aside  from  his  success  in  this  field  his  stay  at  the  Uni- 
versity made  little  impression.  In  spite  of  his  ability 
he  was  naturally  indolent  and  withal  miserably  poor. 
His  father's  death  in  1731  compelled  an  immediate 
return  to  Lichfield,  and  at  twenty-two,  his  education 
half  completed,  penniless,  and  diseased,  he  began  the 
long  and  bitter  struggle  with  circumstance,  from  which 
he  emerged  thirty  years  later  the  literary  leader  of  his 


age. 


At  first  Johnson  attempted  to  teach  in  a  private 
school  in  Leicestershire,  but  failed  on  accouut  of  his 
peculiarities  and  physical  infirmities.  He  then  tried 
to  make  a  living  by  translating  for  the  publishers,  and 
began  his  contributions  to  the  magazines.  At  twenty- 
five  he  married  a  Mrs.  Porter,  widow  of  a  silk  mer- 
chant ;  the  lady  was  twenty  years  his  senior,  but  this 
singular  experiment  appears  to  have  been  the  result  of 
genuine  mutual  attachment,  and  was  productive  only  of 
happiness  to  both.  Light  hundred  pounds,  which  formed 
the  marriage  portion,  was  unwisely  invested  in  starting  a 
private  school  at  their  home  near  Lichfield,  which  was 
attended  by  only  three  or  four  pupils,  and  closed 
abruptly.  In  1737  Johnson  made  a  fresh  start,  and 
this  time,  fixing  his  hopes  upon  a  literary  career,  he 
tramped  the  dusty  road  to  London.     Mrs.  Johnson  re- 


THE   LIFE   OF  THE   POOR  WRITER  283 

mained  behind,  but  her  husband  did  not  journey  alone  ; 
for  by  his  side  there  trudged  young  Davy  Garrick,  a 
pupil  in  the  school  just  closed,  a  lad  of  parts,  whose 
youthful  brain  was  filled  with  dreams  of  fame  and  for- 
tune to  be  won  in  the  great  city.  A  curious  couple 
they  must  have  made  :  the  hulking,  awkward  frame  of 
the  master  towering  above  the  graceful,  dapper  youth 
at  his  side.  The  friendship  of  this  strangely  assorted 
pair  is  one  of  the  pleasant  features  of  that  later  period, 
when  fame  indeed  had  come  to  both,  and  each  was 
master  in  his  special  field. 

The  miseries  of  the  hack-writer  at  this  period  have 
been  most  vividly  pictured  by  Macaulay.  TheL1Jeol 
"  Even  the  poorest  pitied  him ;  and  they  the  Poor 
well  might  pity  him.  For  if  their  condition 
was  equally  abject,  their  aspirings  were  not  equally 
high,  nor  their  sense  of  insult  equally  acute.  To  lodge 
in  a  garret  up  four  pairs  of  stairs,  to  dine  in  a  cellar 
among  footmen  out  of  place,  to  translate  ten  hours  a 
day  for  the  wages  of  a  ditcher,  to  be  hunted  by  bailiffs 
from  one  haunt  of  beggary  and  pestilence  to  another, 
from  Grub  Street  to  St.  George's  Fields,  and  from  St. 
George's  Fields  to  the  alleys  behind  St.  Martin's 
Church,  to  sleep  on  a  bulk  in  June  and  amidst  the 
ashes  of  a  glass  house  in  December,  to  die  in  an  hos- 
pital and  to  be  buried  in  a  parish  vault,  was  the  fate  of 
more  than  one  writer,  who,  if  he  had  lived  thirty  years 
earlier,  would  have  been  admitted  to  the  sittings  of  the 
Kitcat  or  the  Scriblerus  Club,  would  have  sat  in  Par- 
liament, and  would  have  been  intrusted  with  embassies 
to  the  High  Allies."  1 

The  cares  and  privations  of  this  life,  if  not  its  ex- 
tremes of  wretchedness,  Johnson  knew  by  experience, 
through  a  period  of  perhaps  twenty  years.     It  is  only 
1  Essay  on  Samuel  Johnson. 


284  FROM  ADDISON  TO  BURNS 

just  that  we  recall  these  painful  circumstances  as  we 
smile  over  the  grotesque  figure,  the  savage  temper, 
the  voracious  appetite,  and  the  slovenly  dress,  which 
appear  in  the  portrait  of  the  Doctor  Johnson  whom 
Boswell  knew  and  described. 

In  1738  appeared  Johnson's  poem  London,  a  satire 
Early  in  imitation  of  Juvenal,  which  drew  consider- 

Labors.  ak}e  attention  to  its  author.  It  aroused  the 
friendly  interest  of  Pope,  who  endeavored,  without  suc- 
cess, to  secure  for  the  satirist  some  more  substantial 
recognition  than  mere  words  of  praise.  Johnson  now 
became  a  regular  contributor  to  the  Gentleman' &  Maga- 
zine, then  published  by  Cave,  furnishing  articles  on 
all  sorts  of  topics,  receiving  but  scanty  pay.  From 
November,  1740,  to  February,  1743,  he  wrote  the  par- 
liamentary reports  which  were  published  regularly  in 
that  magazine  under  the  heading  Doings  of  the  Sen- 
ate of  Lilliput.  The  manner  and  the  character  of  the 
work  were  such  as  to  make  this  a  remarkable  achieve- 
ment. No  reporters  were  then  permitted  in  the  houses 
of  Parliament,  but  persons  employed  by  the  publisher 
attended  the  sessions,  noted  the  subjects  under  discus- 
sion, the  names  of  the  speakers,  and  points  in  the  ar- 
guments advanced.  These  facts  were  then  brought  to 
Johnson,  who,  out  of  such  scant  material,  composed 
the  speeches  that  were  supposed  to  have  been  actually 
delivered,  and  gave  them  the  form  which  they  assumed 
in  the  published  debates.  When  the  fictitious  elo- 
quence of  these  reports  led  to  their  acceptance  by  the 
public  as  genuine,  Johnson,  who  was  sturdily  honest  in 
all  his  dealings,  refused  to  prepare  them  longer ;  but 
the  fact  remains  that  he  is  the  author,  so  far  as  the 
composition  is  concerned,  of  the  entire  series  of  impor- 
tant parliamentary  efforts  ascribed  to  distinguished 
statesmen  during  those   two  years.     With   humorous 


THE   RAMBLER   AND   THE  IDLER  285 

frankness  he  declared,  when  complimented  for  the  im- 
partiality with  which  he  had  contrived  to  deal  out 
reason  and  eloquence  to  both  parties,  that  while  he 
had  saved  appearances  tolerably  well,  he  had  taken 
good  care  that  the  Whig  dogs  should  not  have  the  best 
of  it.1 

In  spite  of  the  hardness  of  the  road,  the  privations 
and  wretchedness  of  his  life,  in  spite  of  disap- 
pointment  and  depression,  Johnson  was  ad-  Werand 
vancing  slowly,  but  steadily,  in  his  career. 
His  prolific  pen  was  kept  busily  employed  on  common- 
place shop  work  by  the  publishers  ;  he  was  not  without 
a  few  influential  and  sympathetic  friends  ;  but  his  tasks 
were  drudgery,  and  he  lacked  altogether  the  assistance 
that  had  helped  Addison  and  Swift  to  a  speedy  success. 
In  1747  he  published  proposals  for  a  dictionary  of  the 
English  language,  and  his  name  was  sufficiently  well 
known  to  warrant  the  venture  in  which  he  next  en- 
gaged. In  March,  1750,  he  published  the  first  number 
of  the  Rambler,  a  little  serial  modeled  somewhat  on 
the  style  of  the  Tatler  and  the  Spectator  ;  but  John- 
son's manner  was  too  heavy ;  the  agreeable  humor  and 
lightness  of  touch  which  had  made  the  earlier  periodi- 
cals so  attractive  were  wholly  lacking,  and  although 
didactic  essays,  such  as  Johnson  produced,  were  looked 
upon  with  greater  favor  then  than  now,  the  Rambler 
enjoyed  no  great  vogue.  For  two  years,  however,  the 
little  paper  continued  to  appear  twice  a  week,  and  all 
but  two  or  three  numbers  came  from  Johnson's  own 
hand.  Six  years  later  he  again  started  a  periodical  of 
somewhat  lighter  character ;  this  was  the  Idler,  which 
was  published  weekly,  and  ran  for  one  hundred  and 
three  numbers.  Its  circulation  was  not  large,  and  with 
the  appearance  of  the  final  sheet,  the  long  list  of  essay 
1  See  Croker's  Boswell  for  the  entire  account. 


286  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

serials,  begun  by  Richard    Steele   fifty  years  before, 
came  to  an  end. 

The  great  Dictionary  was  completed  and  published 
The  Die-  in  1755.  It  represented  an  enormous  amount 
tionary.  0f  labor  •  a  grammar  and  a  history  of  the  lan- 
guage were  included  in  the  plan,  and  for  seven  years 
Johnson  had  been  employed  upon  the  task,  directing 
the  work  of  assistants  and  copyists,  who  were  paid  out 
of  the  proceeds  from  the  work.  In  spite  of  its  errors 
and  the  queer  conceits  of  its  author's  personality,  this 
Dictionary  was  a  great  achievement.  No  such  com- 
prehensive work  had  ever  before  been  attempted. 
Johnson's  fame  was  now  secured,  and  he  is  said  to  have 
derived  great  satisfaction  when  subsequently  introduced 
as  "  the  great  lexicographer,"  a  term  especially  pleas- 
ing to  his  classical  ear.  Some  of  Johnson's  odd  defini- 
tions have  long  served  to  amuse  the  world.  Network 
he  defined  as  "  anything  reticulated  or  decussated  at 
equal  distances,  with  interstices  between  the  intersec- 
tions." Pension  is  "  an  allowance  made  to  any  one 
without  an  equivalent.  In  England  it  is  generally 
understood  to  mean  pay  given  to  a  state  hireling  for 
treason  to  his  country."  Oats  he  described  as  "  a 
grain  which  in  England  is  generally  given  to  horses, 
but  in  Scotland  supports  the  people."  These  eccen- 
tric lapses  of  his  genius  were  due  in  some  degree  to 
the  embarrassments  of  his  struggle  with  poverty,  as 
well  as  to  the  capricious  indulgence  of  prejudice.  It 
is  significant  of  the  frankness  of  his  mind  that,  when 
asked  by  a  lady  why  he  had  defined  pastern  as  "  the 
knee  of  a  horse,"  he  instantly  replied,  "  Ignorance, 
madam,  pure  ignorance."  Just  before  the  publication 
of  the  completed  work,  its  editor  addressed  to  Lord 
Chesterfield  the  celebrated  Letter,  a  masterpiece  of 
strong    invective,    rejecting    with    ironical    politeness 


JAMES  BOSWELL  287 

that  nobleman's  tartly  proffer  of  assistance.  It  con- 
tains his  famous  characterization  of  the  literary  patron, 
a  type  familiar  enough  to  the  struggling  authors  of  the 
eighteenth  century. 

"  Is  not  a  patron,  my  lord,  one  who  looks  with  unconcern 
on  a  man  struggling  for  life  in  the  water,  and  when  he  has 
reached  ground,  encumbers  him  with  help  ?  .  .  .  I  hope  it 
is  no  very  cynical  asperity  not  to  confess  obligations  where 
no  benefit  has  been  received ;  or  to  be  unwilling  that  the 
public  should  consider  me  as  owing  that  to  a  patron  which 
Providence  has  enabled  me  to  do  for  myself." 

Johnson's  resources  were  still  meagre  ;  and  upon  the 
death  of  his  mother  in  1759,1  he  was  com- 

.  Ka.SS6l3.S- 

pelled  to  rely  upon  his  pen  to  provide  money 
for  the  funeral  expenses.  In  the  evenings  of  a  single 
week  he  composed  the  didactic  romance  of  Rasselas, 
an  Abyssinian  Prince.  The  tone  of  this  work  reflects 
the  general  melancholy  of  his  mind  and  suggests  the 
futility  of  the  search  for  happiness  in  the  world.  In 
1762,  through  the  persuasion  of  friends,  the  essayist 
accepted  a  pension,  granted  by  the  ministry  of  George 
III.  This  assured  an  annual  income  of  X300,  and 
thereafter  he  was  free  from  want. 

Upon  a  memorable  May  afternoon  in  1763,  in  the 
back  parlor  of  a  bookseller's  shop  in  Covent  James 
Garden,  began  the  singular  acquaintance  of  Boswe11- 
Samuel  Johnson  and  James  Boswell.  Vain,  shallow, 
and  garrulous,  this  young  Scotchman,  who  pretended  to 
be  studying  law,  but  who  happened  for  the  hour  to  be 
bent  upon  making  the  acquaintance  of  distinguished 
men,  recounts  the  circumstances  of  his  introduction. 

"  I  was  much  agitated,"  says  Boswell ;  "  and  recollecting 
his  prejudice  against  the  Scotch,  of  which  I  had  beard  much, 

1  Johnson's  wife  had  died  in  1752,  a  loss  from  which  he  was  long  in 
recovering. 


288  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

I  said  to  Davies,  '  Don't  tell  him  where  I  come  from.* 
'  From  Scotland,'  cried  Davies  roguishly.  '  Mr.  Johnson ' 
(said  I),  '  I  do  indeed  come  from  Scotland,  but  I  cannot 
help  it.'  '  That,  sir,'  roared  Johnson,  '  I  find  is  what  a  very 
great  many  of  your  countrymen  cannot  help.'  This  stroke 
stunned  me  a  good  deal ;  and  when  we  had  set  down  I  felt 
not  a  little  embarrassed,  and  apprehensive  of  what  might 
come  next." 

Poor  Boswell ;  his  idolatry  exposed  him  to  many 
similar  shocks,  but  the  blindness  of  his  devotion,  or  his 
unsensitive  skin,  rendered  him  invulnerable  to  all  at- 
tacks. He  has  become  famous  through  his  consuming 
admiration  for  this  great  man.  Samuel  Johnson  was 
his  idol,  and  his  worship  was  complete.  He  haunted 
his  master's  lodgings,  trotted  after  him  in  his  perambu- 
lations down  Fleet  Street,  sat  with  him  at  the  taverns, 
submitted  to  his  irascible  humor,  and  placidly  endured 
the  explosions  of  his  thunderous  wit.  For  twenty 
years  he  kept  a  journal  in  which  he  faithfully  recorded 
the  acts  and  sayings  of  his  hero,  setting  down  in  mi- 
nute detail  all  that  fell  under  his  observant  eye  or  upon 
his  inquisitive  ear.  The  result  was  Boswell's  Life  of 
Johnson,  a  biography  which  surpasses  every  other ;  an 
accurate,  complete  portraiture  of  its  original,  present- 
ing all  the  little  weaknesses  and  trifling  oddities,  as 
well  as  the  weighty  wisdom,  wholesome  humor,  and 
blunt  common  sense  of  his  ponderous  friend. 

Macaulay  has  summarized  the  features  of  Boswell's 
portrait :  — 

"  There  is  the  gigantic  body,  the  huge  face  seamed  with 
the  scars  of  disease,  the  brown  coat,  the  black  worsted 
stockings,  the  gray  wig  with  the  scorched  foretop,  the  dirty 
hands,  the  nails  bitten  and  pared  to  the  quick.  We  see  the 
eyes  and  mouth  moving  with  convulsive  twitches ;  we  see 
the  heavy  form  rolling ;  we  hear  it  puffing ;  and  then  comes 


LATER  LIFE  289 

the  '  Why,  sir  ! '  and  the  '  What  then,  sir  ? '  and  the  '  No, 
sir ! '  and  the  '  You  don't  see  your  way  through  the  question, 
sir ! '  " 

Was  ever  hero  so  frankly  portrayed  elsewhere  ? 

In  1764  was  organized  the  famous  Literary  Club. 
Its  membership  included  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds, the  portrait  painter ;  David  Garrick, 
who,  since  his  arrival  in  London  as  Samuel  Johnson's 
comrade  of  the  road,  had  made  himself  the  foremost 
actor  of  his  generation  ;  Goldsmith,  Johnson,  Burke, 
and  a  score  of  others  almost  equally  distinguished  for 
literary  attainment  in  that  day.  They  met  regularly 
at  the  Turk's  Head  Tavern,  ate  and  drank  together, 
and  made  many  an  evening  mellow  with  their  mirth. 
It  was  as  brilliant  a  group  of  men  as  that  which  com- 
posed the  Scriblerus  Club  in  the  time  of  Pope  and 
Swift,  or  the  coterie  that  loitered  at  Will's  Coffee- 
House  with  Addison  and  Steele.  In  this  congenial 
company  the  great  lexicographer  divested  himself  of 
his  formal  phrases,  his  sonorous  sentences,  and  his  pon- 
derous words.  Here  he  spoke  naturally,  and  his  spon- 
taneity was  flavored  with  the  very  essence  of  sound 
sense  and  lively  wit.  It  was  as  the  recognized  leader 
of  the  Club,  and  chief  critical  authority  among  its 
members,  that  Johnson  is  best  known  to-day.  Boswell, 
who,  happily,  by  Dr.  Johnson's  autocratic  influence,  had 
gained  admission  to  the  group,  is  our  chief  source  of 
information  on  all  points  connected  with  its  history. 

In  1765  Johnson  edited  Shakespeare  ;  and  ten  years 
later  set  about  preparing  an  important  series 
of  biographies  designed  to  accompany  a  great 
edition  of  the  English  poets,  of  which  the  final  volume 
appeared  in  1781.  In  these  biographies,  afterward 
collected  under  the  title  Lives  of  the  Poets,  Johnson's 
most  important  criticisms  appear,  and  some  of  his  best 


290  FROM   ADDISON  TO   BURNS 

prose.  Meanwhile  he  traveled  to  some  extent,  visiting, 
in  company  with  Boswell,  the  highlands  of  Scotland 
and  the  islands  off  the  northern  coast  —  publishing  an 
account  of  his  observations  in  A  Journey  to  the  Hebri- 
des. In  1774  he  made  a  tour  through  Wales,  and  in 
the  following  year  visited  Paris,  in  company  with  his 
devoted  friends,  the  Thrales. 

Johnson  suffered  a  stroke  of  paralysis  in  1788,  and 
on  December  13,  1784,  he  died  in  his  Fleet-street 
house,  amid  the  scenes  with  which  his  life  had  been 
most  closely  associated.  His  body  found  a  resting- 
place  of  honor  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  personality  of  Samuel  Johnson  is  wonderfully 
distinct;  his  very  eccentricities  have  endeared  his 
memory.  It  is  the  peculiarities  that  we  first  recall: 
how  he  kept  stores  of  orange  peel  tucked  away  in  table 
drawers  ;  how  he  insisted  on  touching  every  post  which 
he  passed  on  the  street ;  how  he  swallowed  cup  after 
cup  of  scalding  tea  in  gulps,  until  his  eyes  protruded 
and  the  sweat  stood  on  his  forehead  ;  how  he  tore  at 
his  meat  like  a  famished  animal ;  how  he  growled  and 
snarled  and  puffed  and  grunted,  contradicting,  reviling, 
overwhelming  with  a  storm  of  rhetoric  all  who  differed 
from  his  judgments.  But  we  must  remember  also  the 
courage  and  the  perseverance  with  which  he  struggled 
up  the  long,  hard  way  to  fame ;  the  piety  and  purity 
of  his  life ;  the  kind  heart  that  led  him  to  put  pennies 
into  the  grimy  fists  of  sleeping  waifs  at  night,  that  they 
might  have  something  to  buy  a  morsel  for  breakfast ; 
the  benevolence  that  turned  his  lodgings  into  an  asy- 
lum, where  he  harbored  a  blind  old  woman,  a  negro 
servant,  and  two  or  three  other  queer  dependents  whose 
claims  upon  his  charity  we  do  not  understand.  He  was 
respected  and  beloved  by  the  distinguished  people  who 
were    his   friends.     Burke   wept   at  his   bedside,  and 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  291 

parted  from  him  with  the  words,  "  My  dear  sir,  you 
have  always  been  too  good  for  me."  And  Fanny 
Burney,  author  of  Evelina  and  other  fashionable  nov- 
els, stood  outside  his  door,  sobbing,  when  he  died. 

As  we  have  the  term  Addisonian  to  describe  the  easy, 
graceful  vivacity  of  style  characteristic  of  the  suggestions 
Spectator's  pleasant  prose,  so  we  use  the  terms  for  study. 
Johnsonian  and  Johnsonese  to  indicate  the  sententious  and 
weighty  diction  of  the  Rambler  and  the  Dictionary.  "  If 
you  were  to  write  a  fable  about  little  fishes,"  said  Goldsmith 
to  Johnson  on  one  occasion,  "  you  would  make  the  little 
fishes  talk  like  whales  !  "  When  Johnson  was  making  the 
tour  of  the  Hebrides,  he  described  the  following  incident 
in  a  well-known  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale.  "When  we  were 
taken  upstairs,  a  dirty  fellow  bounced  out  of  the  bed  on 
which  one  of  us  was  to  lie."  But  in  the  published  account 
of  the  journey,  it  is  recorded  thus :  "  Out  of  one  of  the 
beds  on  which  we  were  to  repose,  started  up,  at  our  entrance, 
a  man  black  as  a  Cyclops  from  the  forge."  Once,  speaking 
of  a  certain  play,  he  remarked,  "  The  Rehearsal  has  not  wit 
enough  to  keep  it  sweet ;  "  then,  after  a  pause,  "  It  has  not 
vitality  enough  to  preserve  it  from  putrefaction." 

This  peculiarity  of  his  diction,  however,  is  characteristic 
of  Johnson's  earlier  works.  In  Rasselas,  and  in  the  papers 
of  the  Rambler,  we  note  the  preponderance  of  long  and 
sonorous  Latin  derivatives ;  while  in  the  Lives  of  the  Poets^ 
Johnson's  style  is,  if  anything,  more  free  from  this  fault  than 
that  of  most  writers  of  his  day.  The  student  will  notice, 
nevertheless,  that  Johnson  is  always  formal,  and  almost 
always  in  a  philosophizing,  moralizing  mood,  and  that  his 
tone  is  serious,  his  manner  heavy,  pompous.  He  should  note 
the  constant  use  of  the  balanced  structure,  and  the  frequent 
antithesis ;  these  characteristics  he  will  find  later  especially 
marked  in  Macaulay's  composition  —  a  composition  mod- 
eled in  large  degree  upon  that  of  Johnson. 

The  student's  reading  shoidd  include  some  of  the  essays 
contained   in   the    Rambler   and    the    Idler,   the    romance 


292  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

Rasselas,  and  at  least  one  of  the  Lives  of  the  Poets.  The 
handiest  volume  of  miscellaneous  selections  is  the  Johnson 
in  the  Little  Masterpieces,  edited  by  Bliss  Perry  (Double- 
day,  Page  and  Company),  liasselas,  edited  by  O.  F.  Emer- 
son, is  found  in  the  series  of  English  Readings  (Holt). 
There  is  no  English  author  concerning  whom  more  delight- 
ful books  have  been  written,  and  none  whose  personality  is 
more  attractive  to  the  reader  who  understands.  Boswell's 
famous  Life  is  the  basis  of  our  familiarity  with  its  hero's 
character,  and  any  of  its  pages  will  but  stimulate  the  de- 
sire to  read  further.  Croker's  Bosivell  is  the  edition  which 
inspired  the  essays  on  Johnson  by  Macaulay  and  Carlyle ; 
while  both  these  essays  are  of  great  interest,  Macaulay 's  is 
by  far  the  more  vivid :  Carlyle  gives  us  a  philosophy  of 
Johnson ;  Macaulay  paints  a  portrait.  These  two  essays 
are  published  in  a  single  volume  with  full  notes,  edited  by 
W.  Strunk  (Holt).  Mr.  J.  F.  Waller,  in  Boswell  and 
Johnson  (CasselVs  Popular  Library),  has  written  a  delight- 
fully picturesque  account  of  Johnson's  intercourse  with  his 
famous  friend ;  and  Thomas  Seccomb's  Age  of  Johnson 
(Bell)  is  successful  in  the  same  particular.  Minto's  Manual 
of  English  Prose  Literature  (Ginn)  contains  a  technical 
analysis  of  Johnson's  style,  and  J.  Scott  Clark's  Sttidg  of 
English  Prose  Writers  contains  valuable  criticism  and 
bibliography.  All  historians  of  this  period  in  our  literature 
have  something  worthy  of  note  on  Johnson. 

Among  the  struggling  writers  of  Grub  Street,  famil- 
iar   with    the    difficulties    and    the    miseries 
Oliver  . 

Goldsmith,  through  which  Samuel  Johnson  pushed  his 
1728-74.  sturdy  way  to  the  dictatorship  of  English  let- 
ters in  that  generation,  there  is  no  more  personally 
attractive  figure  than  that  of  Oliver  Goldsmith,  es- 
sayist, dramatist,  novelist,  and  poet.  With  light- 
hearted,  irresponsible  Dick  Steele,  he  shares  the  ready 
affection  of  English  readers,  who  are  apt  to  look  with 
kindly  indulgence    upon  those  victims  of  genius  that 


OLIVER  GOLDSMITH  295 

seem  peculiarly  incapable  of  directing  their  own  affairs 
and  wholly  indifferent  to  the  consequences  of  their  own 
erratic  behavior.  A  free-hearted,  impulsive  Irish  boy, 
born  in  the  insignificant  village  of  Pallas,  County 
Longford,  Oliver  Goldsmith  grew  up,  the  son  of  a  poor 
Irish  curate.  Through  the  larger  part  of  his  boyhood 
the  family  home  was  in  Lissoy,  whither  his  parents  had 
removed  when  the  child  was  two  years  old ;  and  here 
he  became  familiar  with  the  characters  and  scenes 
which  appear,  idealized,  in  The  Deserted  Village  and 
The  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Like  Pope  and  Johnson, 
Goldsmith  was  unfortunate  in  possessing  noticeable 
physical  defects.  He  was  ugly  and  uncouth  ;  his  face 
was  disfigured  with  the  marks  of  smallpox,  and  his 
frame  was  short  and  chunky.  He  was  derided  at 
school  for  his  awkwardness  and  his  stupidity,  yet  his 
boundless  good-nature,  his  cheery  hopefulness,  and  his 
easy  indifference  to  the  blows  of  fate,  always  won  him 
sympathy  and  friends. 

After  a  troublous  term  of  desultory  study  in  various 
schools  and  with  indifferent  tutors,  Goldsmith  School 
entered  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  at  seventeen  Days- 
years  of  age.  He  wore  the  coarse  black  gown  and  red 
cap  of  the  "  sizar,"  did  janitor  service,  and  waited  on 
table  in  the  commons.  Even  thus  he  was  wretchedly 
poor,  and  when,  two  years  after  entrance,  his  father 
died,  the  young  student  nearly  starved  in  his  attic 
room.  To  earn  a  little  money  he  began  writing  street 
ballads,  and  used  to  steal  out  at  night  to  hear  them 
sung  and  to  see  if  they  would  sell.  It  was  character- 
istic of  his  benevolent  nature  even  then  that  the  hard- 
earned  shillings  were  as  often  shared  with  the  first 
beggar  he  met  as  spent  for  the  clothes  and  food  that 
he  sorely  needed.  Goldsmith's  career  at  the  Univer- 
sity was  as  irregular  as  that  of  Swift,  who  had  failed 


294  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

in  Trinity  sixty  years  before.  He  took  a  conspicuous 
part  in  some  college  prank,  quarreled  with  his  tutor, 
and  ran  away,  but  was  brought  back  by  his  brother, 
and,  somehow,  took  the  bachelor's  degree  in  1749. 

Weary  of  tutoring,  which  he  attempted  once  or  twice 
with  poor  success,  Goldsmith  made  a  half-hearted  effort 
to  enter  the  Church,  and  failed.  The  idea  of  emigrat- 
ing to  America  occurred  to  him  ;  his  relatives  equipped 
him  with  a  good  horse  and  thirty  pounds  in  money  and 
started  him  for  Cork  ;  but  he  missed  his  ship,  and  with 
characteristic  cheerfulness  turned  up  at  home  minus  the 
money  and  riding  a  horse  greatly  inferior  to  the  one 
with  which  he  set  out.  He  then  borrowed  fifty  pounds 
of  his  uncle,  and  set  forth  for  London  to  study  law ; 
but  at  Dublin  he  lost  his  money  in  a  gambling-house 
and  again  appeared  before  his  astonished  relatives  as 
hopeful  and  irresponsible  as  ever.  With  fresh  assist- 
ance from  his  uncle,  the  Dublin  graduate  finally  reached 
Edinburgh  in  1752  and  began  the  study  of  medicine. 
Here  Goldsmith  became  exceedingly  popular  with  his 
student  comrades  as  a  good  story-teller  and  singer  of 
Irish  songs,  but  seems  to  have  made  little  progress  in 
the  study  of  medicine.  Within  two  years'  time  a  sud- 
den impulse  seized  him  ;  he  announced  that  he  would 
complete  his  medical  studies  abroad  ;  and  forthwith  he 
set  out  on  his  famous  pilgrimage  through  Europe. 

Ostensibly  a  student  of  medicine,  Goldsmith  jour- 
wander-  neyed  to  Holland  and  remained  for  a  brief 
ings.  period  in  Leyden  ;  but  the  spirit  of  roving  soon 

took  possession  of  him,  and  the  next  two  years  were 
passed  in  picturesque  wanderings  through  France,  Swit- 
zerland, Germany,  and  Italy.  He  may  have  studied  for 
a  few  months  at  the  University  of  Padua  ;  but  scarcely 
any  details  of  his  life  during  this  period  are  known. 
More  vagabond  than  student,  he  begged  his  way  along 


GRUB   STREET  295 

the  pleasant  roads  of  southern  Europe,  exulting  in  the 
freedom  of  this  careless  life,  depending  on  his  flute  and 
his  songs  to  find  a  welcome  to  the  homes  and  tables  of 
the  peasantry.  In  February,  1756,  Goldsmith  arrived  in 
London  with  a  rather  dubious  degree  and  desperately 
poor.  After  failing  again  as  a  tutor  in  some  country 
boarding  school,  he  became  a  chemist's  assistant,  and 
finally  obtained  a  meagre  practice  as  a  physician  in  the 
Southwark  district  of  London. 

The  literary  career  of  Oliver  Goldsmith  began  early 
in  1757,  when,  after  meeting  Griffiths,  editor  orUb 
of  The  Monthly  Review,  he  was  engaged  at  street- 
an  "  adequate  "  salary  to  supply  copy  for  that  maga- 
zine. The  conditions  of  the  hack-writer  in  that  age 
have  been  described ;  struggling  with  the  difficulties 
and  discouragements  of  his  position,  handicapped  by 
his  own  improvidence  and  reckless  habits  of  life,  Gold- 
smith never  emerged  wholly  from  the  dangers  and  mis- 
eries of  his  class.  Yet  his  literary  abilities  soon  won 
recognition,  and  his  works  are  more  highly  esteemed 
than  those  of  the  great  Doctor  Johnson  himself.  In 
1759  he  published  An  Enquiry  into  the  Present  State 
of  Polite  Learning  in  Europe,  which  attracted  gen- 
eral attention  by  the  beauty  of  its  style.  He  met 
Bishop  Percy,  compiler  of  the  Reliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry,  and  Tobias  Smollett  the  novelist, 
then  editor  of  The  Critical  Review  ;  to  this  periodical 
he  became  a  contributor.  He  started  a  publication 
called  The  Bee,  for  which  he  furnished  the  essays 
which  it  contained,  and  wrote  for  The  Busy  Body, 
The  Lady's  Magazine,  and  other  periodicals.  In  The 
Public  Ledger  appeared  his  Chinese  Letters,  after- 
ward published  under  the  title  of  The  Citizen  of  the 
World,  containing  the  observations  and  comment  of  a 
fictitious  Oriental  visiting  England.    This  work  greatly 


296  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

enlarged  the  reputation  of  its  author,  and  in  1760  the 
essayist  moved  into  better  lodgings  in  Fleet  Street, 
where  he  was  honored  with  a  call  from  Johnson,  who 
soon  became  a  valuable  friend.  He  came  to  know 
Garrick,  Burke,  and  the  rest  of  that  famous  group, 
and  was  one  of  the  nine  original  members  who  organ- 
ized the  "  Club  "  in  1764.  In  Boswell's  gossipy  account 
of  its  sessions,  Goldsmith's  blunders  and  drolleries, 
conscious  and  unconscious,  are  given  almost  as  great 
prominence  as  the  more  ponderous  sallies  of  the  dic- 
tator himself. 

In  1764  appeared  the  first  of  Goldsmith's  long 
poems,  The  Traveller.  It  was  dedicated  to 
Best  his  brother,  to  whom  the  poet  was  tenderly 

attached,  and  whose  lovable  personality  is 
sketched  in  the  opening  verses  of  the  poem.  Touched 
here  and  there  by  the  friendly  hand  of  Johnson,  The 
Traveller  proved  an  immediate  success  and  gave  its 
author  a  high  position  among  the  writers  of  the  time. 
Two  years  later  came  the  publication  of  Goldsmith's 
one  novel,  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  which  had  been 
discovered  by  Samuel  Johnson,  unfinished,  in  the  poet's 
lodging,  during  one  of  Goldsmith's  enforced  retire- 
ments on  account  of  debt,  in  1762.  His  next  produc- 
tion of  note  was  a  play,  The  Good  Matured  Man,  in 
1768 ;  but  this  comedy  did  not  prove  a  success  upon 
the  stage.  In  1770  Goldsmith  published  his  best- 
known  poem,  The  Deserted  Village;  and  three  years 
later  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  won  an  immediate  fame 
upon  the  stage  and  a  popularity  which  it  has  never 
lost. 

But  Goldsmith's  literary  success  brought  him  no 
substantial  relief  from  the  embarrassments  by  which 
he  was  always  surrounded.  However  well  paid  for  his 
writings,  he  spent  double  the  amount  of  his  income  on 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  297 

whatever  seized  his  fancy.  Extravagant  in  his  dress 
and  in  his  pleasures,  he  was  also  extravagant  in  his 
benevolence,  and  recklessly  responded  to  the  appeals  of 
the  worthy  and  unworthy  alike.  Hopelessly  involved 
in  debt,  he  grew  despondent,  became  ill  with  a  fever, 
and  died  April  4,  1774,  at  the  early  age  of  forty-five. 
He  was  buried  in  the  Temple  Church,  and  a  monument 
in  his  honor  was  erected  by  the  Club,  in  Westminster 
Abbey. 

The  works  of  Oliver  Goldsmith  are  full  of  a  rich  vivacity 
and  charm  that  make  them  as  readable  to-day  as  suggestions 
they  were  when  Doctor  Johnson  and  the  other  tor  Study, 
learned  gentlemen  of  the  Club  set  the  seal  of  their  distin- 
guished approval  upon  them.  Goldsmith's  great  versatility 
is  the  most  conspicuous  quality  of  his  genius.  His  prose 
style  is  admirable.  "  Where  is  now  a  man  who  can  pen 
an  essay  with  such  ease  and  elegance  as  Goldsmith  ?  "  de- 
manded Johnson.  His  ease,  simplicity,  and  naturalness,  his 
nice  choice  of  words,  his  perfect  command  of  epithet  and 
phrase,  give  distinction  to  everything  he  wrote.  "  Gold- 
smith, both  in  verse  and  prose,"  says  Hazlitt,  "  was  one  of 
the  most  delightful  writers  in  the  language."  The  general 
qualities  of  his  style  will  be  obvious  to  any  student  who 
thoughtfully  reads  his  works. 

An  excellent  selection  from  his  essays  is  supplied  by  the 
volume  on  Goldsmith  in  the  Little  Masterpieces,  edited  by 
Bliss  Perry  (Doubleday,  Page  and  Company).  Number  68 
of  the  Riverside  Literature  Series  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and 
Company)  contains  The  Deserted  Village,  The  Traveller, 
and  some  minor  poems,  edited  with  notes  for  students'  use. 
These  two  poems  should  be  carefully  read  as  forming  a 
literary  landmark  midway  between  the  compositions  of  the 
classic  period  of  English  poetry  and  the  development  of 
the  new  movement  which  came  with  Burns  and  Wordsworth. 
While  the  metre  is  that  of  Pope  and  his  school,  the  spirit 
of    Goldsmith's  poems  is  more  closely  akin  to  that  of  the 


298  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

poetry  which  was  soon  to  follow.  Let  the  student  compare 
The  Deserted  Village  with  Pope's  Windsor  Forest,  taking, 
for  example,  lines  35-50  and  113-136  of  Goldsmith's  poem 
for  comparison  with  lines  7-42  and  111-158  of  Pope's. 
The  superior  naturalness  and  sincerity  of  the  later  poet  will 
not  he  difficult  to  detect.  Yet  the  details  of  local  descrip- 
tion and  of  characterization  in  Goldsmith's  poems  must  not 
be  interpreted  too  literally.  The  poet  has  idealized  his  sub- 
jects throughout,  and  fancy  has  brightened  the  colors  which 
transform  the  rude  Irish  hamlet  of  Lissoy  into  this  charm- 
ing picture  of 

"  Sweet  Auburn,  loveliest  village  of  the  plain." 

Goldsmith's  portraitures  may  well  be  compared  with  those 
of  Chaucer's  immortal  pilgrims,  although  the  blunt  realism 
of  the  first  great  English  poet  is  remote  enough  from  the 
elegant  idealism  of  this  later  minstrel. 

Concerning  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  more  remains  to  be 
said  elsewhere  ;  it  must  not  be  overlooked  by  the  student 
of  Goldsmith's  works,  for  it  is  one  of  the  classics  of  English 
fiction.1  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  stands,  with  Sheridan's 
School  for  Scandal  and  The  Rivals,  one  of  the  very  best 
of  acting  comedies  on  the  English  stage. 

In  every  one  of  his  works  —  and  there  are  many  not 
enumerated  here  —  the  warm  heart  and  quick  sympathy, 
the  gracious  humor,  the  sweet  and  wholesome  charity  for 
all  of  human  kind,  reveal  in  various  expression  the  amiable 
spirit  of  this  easy-going,  generous  man.  While  there  is  no 
marked  originality  in  the  compositions  of  Oliver  Goldsmith, 
his  style  was  his  own,  and  the  winning  charm  of  his  person- 
ality pervades  his  work.  It  was  honest  criticism  as  well  as 
affectionate  friendship  that  found  expression  in  Johnson's 
stately  Latin  epitaph  on  the  dead  poet :  — 

"  Nullum  fere  scribendi  genus  non  tetigit, 
Nullum  quod  tetigit  non  ornabit." 

1  See  page  279.  An  edition  of  this  novel  is  published  by  Houghton, 
Mifflin  and  Company. 


HUME   AND   GIBBON  299 

The  Life  of  Goldsmith  by  J.  Foster  is  the  standard 
authority.  Washington  Irving  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  each 
wrote  his  biography.  In  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series 
the  Goldsmith  is  by  William  Black,  and  Austin  Dobson 
is  the  author  of  the  Life  in  the  Great  Writers  Series. 
Macaulay's  Essay,  and  the  chapter  which  treats  of  Gold- 
smith in  Thackeray's  English  Humourists,  should  not  be 
overlooked. 

Contemporary  with   Johnson    and    Goldsmith,  con- 
tributing with  them  to  the  wealth  of  eight-  „    ,„ 
o  b  David 

eenth  century  prose,  were  many  writers  of  Hume, 
important  rank.  David  Hume,  a  Scotch  ad-  7  "  * 
vocate,  born  in  Edinburgh  in  1711,  was  the  first  to 
attempt  a  comprehensive,  accurate  history  of  England. 
By  the  publication  of  various  essays  upon  philosophy 
and  morals,  Hume  had  already  become  known  as  a 
keen,  hard-headed  reasoner  of  the  utilitarian  school 
when,  in  1752,  he  formed  the  design  of  writing  the  his- 
tory with  which  his  name  is  associated.  The  first  vol- 
ume of  Hume's  England  appeared  in  1754 ;  the  work 
was  completed  in  1761.  The  historian  had  aimed  to 
produce  an  interesting  book ;  in  this  purpose  he  suc- 
ceeded. The  History  is  famous  for  its  elegance  and 
smoothness  of  style.  But  Hume  was  a  strong  partisan 
of  Tory  interests,  and  his  political  prejudice  is  obvious, 
particularly  in  his  defense  of  the  Stuarts.  Our  chief 
interest  in  the  work  is  due  to  the  fact  that  here  we  find 
for  the  first  time  an  intelligent  study  of  politics  and  an 
attempt  to  give  an  account  of  the  people  and  manners 
of  an  age. 

Gibbon,  the  greatest  of  English  historians,  was  born 
at  Putney.     His  career  as  a  student,  first  at 
Westminster  School    and   later   at    Oxford,   Gibbon, 
was  extremely  unsatisfactory.     In  the  course 
of  much  desultory  reading,   however,  young  Gibbon 


300  FROM   ADDISON  TO   BURNS 

absorbed  with  great  interest  the  facts  of  oriental  his- 
tory. 

"  The  dynasties  of  Assyria  and  Egypt  were  my  top  and 
cricket-ball,"  he  says  ;  "  and  my  sleep  has  been  disturbed  by 
the  difficulty  of  reconciling  the  Septuagint  with  the  Hebrew 
computation." 

Gibbon's  love  of  historical  study  was  further  stimu- 
lated by  subsequent  study  (during  a  residence  in  Lau- 
sanne, Switzerland)  and  by  a  trip  to  Italy  in  1764. 

"  It  was  at  Rome,"  he  writes,  "  on  the  15th  October,  1764, 
as  I  sat  musing  among  the  ruins  of  the  Capitol,  while  the 
barefooted  friars  were  singing  vespers  in  the  Temple  of  Ju- 
piter, that  the  idea  of  writing  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  city 
first  started  to  my  mind." 

But  it  was  not  until  1776  that  he  published,  at  Lon- 
don, the  first  volume  of  his  stately  work.  Volumes  II. 
and  III.  appeared  in  1781 ;  and  six  years  afterward, 
at  Lausanne,  the  three  later  volumes  were  completed. 

Gibbon's  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the 
The  Decline  Roman  Empire  covers  the  period  beginning 
and  Fail.  with  the  reign  of  Trajan,  98  a.  d.,  and  ending 
with  the  fall  of  Constantinople  in  145$.  The  skepti- 
cism of  its  author  regarding  the  authorities  upon  Chris- 
tian history  occasions  an  attitude  objectionable  in  the 
minds  of  many  readers ;  but  it  should  not  be  forgotten 
that  this  same  skeptical  attitude  toward  the  evidence 
of  ancient  authority  is  the  very  quality  which  sustains 
the  historical  accuracy  of  Gibbon  —  "  the  one  historian 
of  the  eighteenth  century,"  as  Freeman  declares, 
"  whom  modern  research  has  neither  set  aside  nor  threat- 
ened to  set  aside."  The  prose  style  of  the  Decline  and 
Fall  is  most  eloquent.  History,  in  Gibbon's  concep- 
tion, is  a  great  panorama  of  momentous  events ;  and 
this  succession  of  impressive  scenes  he  presents  in  pic- 


EDMUND  BURKE  301 

tures  glowing  with  color.  His  style  is  that  of  the  ora- 
tor ;  his  diction,  like  that  of  Johnson,  is  largely  Latin 
—  weighty,  sonorous.1 

Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  author  of  two  of  the  best 
comedies  on  the  English  stage,  was  born  in  Richard 
Dublin.  In  The  Rivals  (1775)  he  created  JSSSL, 
the  great  comic  characters,  Bob  Acres,  Sir  1751-18I6. 
Lucius  O'Trigger,  and  Mrs.  Malaprop.  He  acquired 
possession  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre  in  1776,  and  the 
next  year  produced  The  School  for  Scandal,  his  best 
play.     A  third  comedy,    The    Critic,  was  written  in 

1779.  Sheridan  became  a  member  of  parliament  in 

1780,  and  achieved  a  brilliant  reputation  as  an  orator. 
He  afterward  met  with  reverses  and  died  in  poverty. 

By  far  the  man  of  largest  mould  at  the  close  of  the 
century  was  Edmund  Burke,  the  essayist  and 
parliamentarian,  greatest  of  English  political  Burke, 
writers,  the  one  whom  Dr.  Johnson  termed 
the  first  man  in  the  House  of  Commons  because  he 
was  the  first  man  everywhere.  Burke  was  an  Irish- 
man and  was  born  in  Dublin.  He  was  educated  at 
Trinity,  but  failed  to  carry  off  any  special  honors.  In 
1750  he  became  a  law  student  in  London,  but  appeared 
to  be  fonder  of  travel  and  literature  than  of  the  law. 
He  published  his  first  essays  in  1756  :  the  first,  A  Vin- 
dication of  Natural  Society,  a  satirical  reply  to  Bo- 
lingbroke's  attack  on  established  religion ;  the  second, 
A  Philosophical  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  of  our  Ideas 
of  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful.  This  last  essay  was  at 
least  indicative  of  the  young  law  clerk's  interest  for 
aesthetics.  Edmund  Burke  had  the  soul  of  a  poet ;  his 
imaginative  power,  expressing  itself  in  bursts  of  pro- 
found feeling,  is  the  essential  element  in  his  oratory 
which  brought  him  fame. 

1  The  interesting  Memoirs  of  Gibbon  are  edited  by  O.  F.  Emerson 
in  the  Athenceum  Press  Series  (Ginn). 


302  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

In  1765  Burke  became  secretary  to  the  prime  min- 

_   ,.  ister,  and  the  next  year  entered  the  House 

Parlia-  '  •       t>         • 

mentary  of  Commons  for  Wendover  in  Buckingham- 
shire. In  Parliament  Burke's  career  was 
distinguished  by  his  vigorous  championship  of  the 
American  colonies.  His  Speech  on  Conciliation  with 
America  (1775)  is  a  familiar  classic  in  all  American 
schools.  Burke  next  became  interested  in  matters  re- 
lating to  abuses  of  power  by  government  officials  in 
India,  and  finally  conducted  the  celebrated  but  unsuc- 
cessful case  for  impeachment  against  Warren  Hastings 

—  the  case  which  supplied  Macaulay  with  the  theme 
of  one  of  his  most  picturesque  essays.  In  his  Reflec- 
tions on  the  French  Revolution  (1790)  and  the  Let- 
ter on  a  Regicide  Peace  (1796),  Burke  was  again 
upon  the  unpopular  side,  bitterly,  almost  brutally,  de- 
nouncing the  principles  of  the  Revolutionists.  His 
attitude  caused  a  rupture  with  his  party  and  the  break- 
ing of  old  associations  with  his  friends  among  the 
Whigs.  It  was  proposed  that  Burke  be  raised  to  the 
peerage  as  Earl  of  Beaconsfiekl,  but  these  plans  were 
frustrated  by  his  death. 

In  the  field  of  state  politics  Burke  was  a  philosopher. 
As  a  Man  He  had  a  clear  view  of  every  subject  upon 
of  Letters,  which  he  moved.  His  grasp  of  minute  de- 
tails was  extraordinary ;  the  range  of  his  knowledge, 
marvelous.  In  the  expression  of  ideas  the  statesman 
turned  poet.  Figures  of  rhetoric  became  a  part  of  the 
machinery  by  which  he  impressed  —  not  merely  adorned 

—  his  argument.  The  prose  of  no  English  writer  is 
richer  in  those  rhetorical  beauties  which  are  commonly 
regarded  as  ornaments  of  style.  Metaphor  follows 
metaphor,  in  long  passages  of  eloquent  periods,  until, 
sometimes,  the  idea  of  the  image  almost  buries  the  idea 
of  the  speech ;  but  such  extravagance  is  not  common, 


THE   ROMANTIC   MOVEMENT  303 

and  the  figures  are  used  with  discretion  as  well  as  with 
ease.  It  is,  therefore,  as  one  of  the  masters  of  our 
English  tougue,  as  well  as  a  great  political  writer  and 
a  leader  of  English  thought,  that  we  must  recognize 
Edmund  Burke.  He  was  the  last  of  the  great  prose 
writers  in  this  remarkable  age  of  prose.1 

V.     THE   ROMANTIC    MOVEMENT    IN    ENGLISH    POETRY. 

In  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  there 
appeared  among  certain  of  the  English  poets  a  well- 
defined  movement  away  from  the  conventional  models 
of  verse  as  established  in  the  compositions  of  Dry  den 
and  Pope.  It  has  been  found  difficult,  however,  to 
formulate  a  description  of  this  movement  which  shall 
adequately  distinguish  the  new  school.  Within  the 
term  romantic  —  now  used  to  designate  this  movement 
—  these  three  elements  are  clearly  included :  (1)  A 
subjective  treatment ;  that  is,  such  a  handling  of  the 
theme  as  shall  reveal  the  spiritual  attitude  of  the  au- 
thor, his  reflections,  his  moral  sentiment,  his  passion. 
(2)  A  choice  of  picturesque  material.  This  is  the 
quality  which  we  associate  most  frequently  with  the 
term  to-day.  At  the  time  of  which  we  speak,  the  taste 
of  the  age  was  especially  drawn  to  medieval  subjects, 
for  the  history  and  traditions  of  the  Middle  Ages  are 
rich  in  such  themes.  Sometimes  the  poets  turned  to 
oriental  sources.  In  its  extreme  phase,  romanticism 
reveled  in  ghostly  subjects  and  appealed  to  the  uni- 
versal interest  in  mystery  and  horror.  (3)  A  spirit 
of  reaction  was  a  natural  characteristic ;  for  such  a 
spirit  is  the  logical  accompaniment  of  an  important 
movement  in  any  field  of  literature  at  any  age.  The 
term  romantic  is  even  used  in  this  last  sense  alone, 

1  Consult  the  volume  of  Selections  from  Edmund  Burke,   edited  by 
Bliss  Perry,  in  the  English  Readings  (Holt). 


304  FROM   ADDISON  TO   BURNS 

indicating  merely  the  passing  from  one  style  of  compo- 
sition to  another,  which,  because  of  its  novelty,  is  then 
termed  romantic  —  the  word  classical  being  used  to 
describe  the  old,  accepted  model.  But  all  the  elements 
here  enumerated  are  implied  in  the  romantic  movement 
now  under  discussion.1 

James  Thomson,  an  account  of  whose  work  has  been 
Beginners       Siven  (P'  26^),  was    tne   first   P0et   °f   Promi- 

inthe  nence  to  sound  the  new  note.      The  Seasons 

(1730)  clearly  indicates  the  tendency  of  the 
reaction.  In  the  thin  volume  of  Oriental  Eclogues, 
published  by  William  Collins  (1721-59)  in  1742,  the 
tendency  is  manifested  slightly,  and  among  that  writer's 
famous  Odes  —  although  that  On  the  Passions  is  too 
reminiscent  of  Dryden  and  Pope  to  be  significant  in 
this  connection  —  there  are  several,  such  as  the  Ode 
to  Simplicity,  the  one  To  Evening,  and  that  On  the 
Death  of  Thomson,  which  are  clear  in  their  relation  to 
this  movement. 

In  1743  there  appeared  a  remarkable  poem  in  blank 
verse  entitled  The  Grave,  the  work  of  a  young  Scotch 
writer,  Robert  Blair  (1699-1746).  This  composition 
is  vastly  superior  to  scores  of  contemplative  "  church- 
yard "  poems  which  were  at  that  time  appearing ;  it 
was  characterized  by  a  freedom  of  treatment  significant 
of  the  revolt  from  Pope.  Its  vigorous  diction  and 
pregnant  phrases  are  immediately  suggestive  of  the 
Elizabethan  age.  The  spirit  of  the  poem  is  essentially 
romantic. 

But  most  notable  of  all  those  whose  influence,  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  was  thrown  in  the 
Gray,  new  direction,   was  the  poet   Thomas  Gray. 

The  Elegy  Written  in  a  Country  Churchyard, 

1  Compare  English  Romanticism  in  tin  Eighteenth  Century,  by  H.  A. 
Beers  (Holt),  and  the  briefer  English  liomantic  Movement,  by  W.  L. 
Phelps  (Ginn). 


GRAY'S   ELEGY  305 

published  in  1751,  is  the  climax  of  the  meditative,  or 
"  melancholy,"  verse  of  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  In  itself  the  Elegy  is  not  wholly  a  romantic 
poem,  but  its  tone  is  not  discordant  to  the  new  school. 

Gray's  mind  belonged  to  that  reflective,  serious  type 
portrayed  in  Milton's  II  Penseroso  ;  the  pensive,  mel- 
ancholy spirit  dominated  his  life  as  well  as  his  verse, 
and  nature  developed  in  him  the  romantic  character. 
As  a  schoolboy  at  Eton  he  appeared  studious  and  shy ; 
at  Cambridge  his  melancholy  grew  habitual.  His  ex- 
periences with  life  confirmed  Gray  in  this  soberness  of 
spirit.  In  1742  he  wrote  the  graceful  but  dispirited 
Ode  on  a  Distant  Prospect  of  Eton  College,  with  its 
familiar  close :  — 

"  Where  ignorance  is  bliss 
'T  is  folly  to  be  wise." 

At  about  this  time  he  began  the  composition  of  the 
Elegy.  For  five  or  six  years  he  lived  the  life  Gray's 
of  a  scholar,  almost  that  of  a  recluse,  at  Cam-  EleE7- 
bridge,  devoting  himself  to  the  classics.  His  home  was 
nominally  at  Stoke  Poges,  a  beautiful  village  near 
Windsor,  where  his  mother  and  sister  were  living ; 
and  here,  in  1750,  he  finished  the  poem  upon  which 
rests  his  fame.  It  was  printed  in  1751  to  forestall  an 
unauthorized  publication.  The  Elegy  is  apparently 
the  best-known  poem  in  the  language.  For  perfection 
of  form  and  finish  it  is  unsurpassed.  A  wonderful 
unity  of  feeling  pervades  the  poem,  of  which  the  key- 
note is  struck  in  the  opening  line,  — 

"  The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day." 

Upon  the  mind  of  an  appreciative  reader  the  poeti- 
cal effect  of  this  composition  becomes  more  and  more 
impressive  as  his  acquaintance  with  literature  broadens 
and  his  familiarity  with  the  Elegy  grows. 


306  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

The  poet's  life  was  devoted  rather  to  self-culture  than 
The  Ro-  to  production.  Although  he  held  a  lecture- 
maiiticist.  gj^p  -1U  t]ie  University,  he  never  lectured.  The 
volume  of  his  poetry  is  surprisingly  thin.  The  Pro- 
gress of  Poesy  and  Tlie  Bard,  representing  his  most 
important  work,  appeared  in  1757.  This  last  poem 
was  essentially  romantic.  The  story  of  TJie  Bard  is 
based  upon  an  ancient  Welsh  tradition  of  Edward  I.'s 
conquest  of  that  country.  As  Edward's  army  is  wind- 
ing thi'ough  a  deep  valley,  the  march  is  suddenly  inter- 
rupted by  the  appearance  of  a  venerable  figure  seated 
on  the  summit  of  an  inaccessible  rock.  The  aged  bard 
denounces  the  king  for  all  the  misery  which  he  has 
brought  upon  the  land,  including  the  cruel  death  of  all 
the  bards  who  had  fallen  into  Edward's  hands,  and 
prophesies  that  poetic  genius  shall  never  be  wanting  in 
the  island  to  celebrate  virtue  and  valor  or  to  defy  op- 
pression. The  bard  then  leaps  from  the  height  and  is 
swallowed  in  the  river  at  its  foot.  It  will  be  recognized 
at  once  that  here  is  genuine  romantic  material ;  indeed 
this  poem  is  an  important  landmark  in  the  course  of 
the  new  movement.  Gray's  later  poems  were  similar 
in  spirit.  The  Fatal  Sisters  and  The  Descent  of 
Odin  are  drawn  from  Norse  legend  ;  The  Death  of 
Hoel  is  Welsh  in  its  source. 

Although  the  poems  of  Gray  were  abundantly  ad- 
mired, the  taste  of  his  age  was  against  him. 

Influence  °  .  ° 

ofciassi-  The  influence  of  Pope's  authority,  enforced 
by  the  criticism  of  Johnson,  still  stamped  it- 
self upon  the  verse  that  had  the  vogue  and  won  current 
fame.  Even  Goldsmith,  whose  ideas  seem  to  have  been 
somewhat  like  those  of  the  new  school,  was  too  inti- 
mately connected  with  Johnson  to  depart  from  the  old 
methods.  He  declared  against  the  use  of  blank  verse, 
and  clothed  his  really  romantic  idealizations  in  the 
classic  garb  of  the  couplet. 


THE   RELIQUES   AND   THE   FORGERIES       307 

Yet  the  development  of  romanticism  was  not  to  be 
checked.     A  Highland  schoolmaster,  James 

The  Rs- 

Macpherson  (1736-96),  published  in  1760  nques 
some  Fragments  of  Ancient  Poetry  .  .  .  ^ndthe 
Translated  from  the  Gaelic  or  Erse  Lan- 
guage. In  1762  he  published  Fingal,  an  Ancient  Epic 
Poem  in  Six  Books,  as  his  translation  of  the  work  of 
Ossian,  the  ancient  bard  of  his  race.  More  Ossianic 
fragments  appeared  in  the  following  year,  and  a  sensa- 
tional debate  arose  over  the  genuineness  of  these  so- 
called  translations.  The  interest  in  this  romantic 
revival  was  further  evidenced  and  wonderfully  stimu- 
lated by  the  publication  in  1765  of  Bishop  Percy's 
famous  collections  of  Scotch  and  English  ballads, 
known  under  the  title  of  The  Reliques  of  Ancient 
English  Poetry,  and  five  years  later  the  field  of  ro- 
manticism was  enlarged  by  the  appearance  of  Percy's 
Northern  Antiquities,  a  translation  from  the  French 
of  Mallet's  History  of  Denmark,  which  first  revealed 
to  Gray  the  rich  treasure  of  Norse  mythology. 

The  popular  success  of  Macpherson's  Fragments 
appears  to  have  suggested  the  publication  of  several 
specimens  of  ancient  English  verse,  by  Thomas  Chat- 
terton  (1752-70).  These  remarkable  poems,  attributed 
to  Thomas  Rowley,  a  monk  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
were  clearly  proved  to  be  forgeries  ;  and  this  "  marvel- 
ous boy,"  as  Wordsworth  calls  him,  filled  with  chagrin 
and  overcome  by  the  disappointments  and  hardships  of 
his  young  career,  ended  his  life  by  suicide,  at  the  age 
of  seventeen.  The  history  of  our  literature  records  no 
other  case  so  strange  and  pathetic  as  this. 

Very  different  in  spirit  from  the  productions  just 
described,  yet  essentially  an  important  factor  in  the 
romantic  movement,  was  the  work  of  William  Cowper. 
Like  Gray,  a  shy,  sensitive  youth,  the  poet  seems  to 


308  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

have  been  foredoomed  to  dejection  and  morbid  melan- 

_„„  clioly.     In  Westminster  School  he  was  one 

William  •>  , 

Cowper,       of  a  coterie  who  cultivated  the  muse  of  1m- 

1731-1800.  ,  •  j  •  i     . 

promptu  verse  in  games  and  exercises;   but 

he  suffered  much  from  the  rough-and-ready  life  of  the 
public  school,  and  years  afterward  expressed  his  dis- 
trust of  the  system  :  — 

"  The  rude  will  scuffle  through  with  ease  enough, 
Great  schools  suit  best  the  sturdy  and  the  rough."  1 

Cowper's  timidity  clung  to  him  through  life ;  one  less 
fitted  to  grapple  with  its  practical  experiences  it  would 
be  hard  to  find.  Friends  secured  for  the  poet  an 
appointment  as  Clerk  of  the  Journals  in  the  House  of 
Lords ;  but  the  ordeal  of  qualifying,  and  the  thought 
that  he  would  be  obliged  to  read  the  records  in  public, 
were  too  much  for  his  mistrustful  spirit,  and  in  despair 
he  attempted  suicide.  For  eighteen  months  he  was 
under  treatment  in  a  madhouse,  and  fits  of  deep  de- 
pression were  his  frequent  portion  afterward.  While 
under  strong  Calvinistic  influences  during  his  residence 
at  Olney  in  Buckinghamshire,  Cowper  composed  a 
large  number  of  hymns  contained  in  the  Olney  Collec- 
tion. Among  the  most  familiar  are  the  following: 
God  moves  in  a  mysteinous  way,  Oh!  for  a  closer 
walk  with  God,  and  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with 
blood. 

It  is  a  singular  fact  that  to  this  super-sensitive  and 

.  ,.  „,.  ,  morbidly  serious  poet  we  owe  one  of  the  live- 
John  Gilpin.     .  J  L 

liest  and  most  entertaining  of  humorous 
poems,  The  Diverting  History  of  John  Gityin.  One 
evening  in  1782,  as  we  are  told,  when  Cowper  was  in 
one  of  his  melancholy  moods,  the  story  of  Gilpin's  ride 
was  related  to  the  poet  by  his  vivacious  friend,  Lady 
Austen.  Peals  of  laughter  were  heard  issuing  from 
1  Tirocinium ;  or,  a  Review  of  Schools. 


THE   TASK  309 

the  poet's  bedroom  during  the  night,  and  the  next 
morning  the  poem  was  read  to  the  company  at  break- 
fast. 

To  Lady  Austen's  suggestion  also  was  due  the  com- 
position of  Cowper's  most  elaborate  poem, 
The  Task.  The  significance  of  its  title  is 
explained  by  the  fact  that  when  the  poet  begged  for 
some  "  task  "  to  relieve  the  gloom  of  his  low  spirits, 
that  lively  lady  suggested  "  The  Sofa  "  as  a  subject  for 
his  verse.  In  1785  this  long  poem  in  blank  verse  was 
completed,  and  fully  established  its  author's  fame.  Its 
characteristics  were  those  of  the  new  school.  Cowper's 
Task  is  removed  as  far  as  possible  from  the  conven- 
tionalities of  the  classicists.  Naturalness  is  its  charm. 
After  having  sung  the  evolution  of  the  sofa  in  pleasant 
mock-heroic  strain,  the  poet  lets  his  fancy  roam  forth 
among  those  rural  sights  and  sounds  which 

"  Exhilarate  the  spirit,  and  restore 
The  tone  of  languid  nature." 

By  an  easy  contrast  his  theme  suggests  the  surpass- 
ing attractiveness  of  nature  in  her  native  haunts,  and 
the  spirit  of  his  thought  is  expressed  at  the  end  of  the 
First  Book  in  the  familiar  line,  — 

"  God  made  the  country,  and  man  made  the  town." 

Scattered  through  the  six  books  of  Cowper's  Task  are 
many  passages  of  bright  description  and  many  features 
which  directly  suggest  the  manner  of  Wordsworth,  the 
great  leader  of  the  natural  school  at  the  beginning  of 
the  next  century. 

Cowper's  last  days  were  days  of  gloom.  A  poem 
written  On  the  Receipt  of  my  Mother's  Picture  (the 
poet's  mother  had  died  when  Cowper  was  a  boy  of  six) 
is  one  of  the  tenderest  and  most  impressive  of  his  com- 
positions.    Another,   The   Castaway,  dated  one  year 


310  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

before  his  death,  is  a  striking  expression  of  the  hope- 
less misery  of  his  condition  :  — 

"  No  voice  divine  the  storm  allay'd, 
No  light  propitious  shone  ; 
When,  snatch'd  from  all  effectual  aid, 
We  perish'd,  each  alone: 
But  I  heneath  a  rougher  sea, 
And  whelm'd  in  deeper  gulfs  than  he." 

The  tendency  in  English  verse  was  now  emphatically 
Robert  toward  naturalness  of  expression,  the  study 

Bums,  of  life  itself,  and  a  frank  sympathy  with  all 

J  759-96  .  m  • 

human  interests.  The  Revolutionary  Period 
had  dawned,  and  while  France  furnished  the  field  of 
immediate  struggle  between  the  forces  of  that  intensely 
dramatic  epoch,  the  ideas  and  principles  of  the  time 
were  fermenting  everywhere  in  Europe.  In  England 
the  voices  of  the  poets  responded  now  and  then  to  the 
new  impulse.  This  spirit  spoke  in  the  poetry  of  Robert 
Burns. 

The  national  poet  of  Scotland,  nearest  of  all  poets 
to  the  heart  of  the  English-speaking  world,  was  the 
son  of  an  intelligent,  high-minded  Ayrshire  farmer 
who,  with  his  own  hands,  had  built  the  clay  cabin  in 
which  the  poet  was  born.  The  peasant's  son  had  little 
to  expect  in  the  way  of  school  privileges  ;  but  his  father 
believed  in  the  advantages  of  education  and  provided 
what  he  could.  The  poet  got  a  brief  school  training 
and  absorbed  the  literature  of  his  land.  The  real 
inspiration  of  his  genius,  perhaps,  came  from  the  pic- 
turesque personality  of  old  Betty  Davidson,  a  member 
of  the  household,  whose  memory  was  a  storehouse  of 
ballad  and  legend.  To  her  tales,  and  to  the  songs 
of  the  housewives,  Burns  gave  a  ready  ear.  The  tunes 
of  the  folk  songs  rang  in  his  head  —  homely  melodies 
crooned  by  mothers  to  their  infants  by  cottage  door  or 
fireside.     He  whistled  them  as  he  followed  the  plough, 


THE   AYRSHIRE   PLOUGHMAN  311 

until  his  own  songs  came,  fairly  singing  themselves 
into  form,  innocent  of  elaborate  art,  but  in  perfect  tune 
with  nature  and  throbbing  with  the  passion  of  his 
soul.  Never  a  poet  sang  with  greater  spontaneity  than 
Robert  Burns ;  never  one  looked  more  keenly  or  more 
sanely  into  the  world  of  living  things  about  him. 

"  The  simple  Bard,  rough  at  the  rustic  plough ; 
Learning  his  tuneful  trade  from  ev'ry  bough."  1 

When  Burns's  father  died  in  1784,  the  poet,  with 
his  brothers  and  sisters,  tried  with  ill  success  The  Ayr. 
to  carry  on  the  farm.  Then  Robert,  together  shire 
with  one  of  the  brothers,  controlled  a  small 
estate,  poorly  equipped,  at  Mossgiel ;  and  here  he  wrote 
some  of  his  best-known  verse.  The  Cotter's  Saturday 
Night  is  a  picture  in  detail  of  a  typical  godly  Scotch 
home  —  just  such  an  one  as  that  in  which  his  own 
childhood  had  been  passed.  Straight  from  the  soil 
came  the  wholesome  flavor  in  the  lines  To  a  Mouse 
and  those  To  a  Mountain  Daisy.  In  1786  the  failure 
to  make  profit  from  the  farm,  the  bitterness  of  the 
struggle  which  provided  but  the  barest  living,  and  the 
results  of  certain  follies  due  to  his  own  impulsive,  pas- 
sionate nature,  afflicted  Burns  so  acutely  that  he  lost 
heart  and  planned  to  go  to  Jamaica.  To  supply  means 
for  such  an  undertaking,  his  friends  suggested  collect- 
ing and  printing  the  poems  already  composed.  The 
suggestion  was  accepted,  and  in  that  same  year  ap- 
peared at  Kilmarnock  the  first  edition  of  Burns's 
poems.  Its  reception  was  hearty  and  enthusiastic. 
An  invitation  came  urging  a  visit  to  Edinburgh,  whither 
the  poet  went  to  receive  the  honors  of  a  literary  lion 
and  to  publish  a  later  and  slightly  enlarged  edition  of 
his  works.  The  numberless  songs  of  his  later  years 
were   not  collected  in  any  subsequent  volume  during 

1   The  Brigs  of  Ayr. 


312  FROM  ADDISON  TO  BURNS 

the  poet's  life,  but  appeared  in  current  publications,  or 
circulated,  like  the  old  folk  ballads  themselves,  from 
tongue  to  tongue. 

The  Scotch  ploughman's  "  pith  o'  sense  and  pride  o' 
worth"  were  invincible  to  flattery.  When  the  applause 
grew  faint,  Burns  turned  again  to  the  plough,  married 
Jean  Armour,  and  settled  upon  a  farm  at  Ellisland  in 
Dumfrieshire.  Here  again  agriculture  proved  unprofit- 
able and  was  not  continued  beyond  a  year.  The  influ- 
ence of  friends  had  secured  for  the  poet  an  appoint- 
ment as  gauger  and  exciseman  over  a  district  of  ten 
parishes,  the  duties  of  this  office  keeping  him  much 
upon  the  road.  It  was  an  unfortunate  kindness ;  for 
the  easy,  convivial  temper  of  Burns  exposed  him  to  all 
the  harmful  influences  found  in  the  associations  of  his 
office.  He  was  a  lusty  "  flesh  and  blood  "  man,  pos- 
sessed by  masterful  passions.  The  weakness  of  self- 
indulgence  was  his  ruin.  Disappointment  over  his 
failures,  and  ill-health  —  the  fruit  of  his  own  excesses 
—  clouded  his  spirits  more  and  more.  He  died  at 
thirty-seven.  The  line  in  A  BartV s  Epitaph  he  had 
written  of  himself :  — 

"  But  thoughtless  follies  laid  him  low, 
And  stained  his  name." 

There  is  no  necessity  to  gloss  over  the  errors  of 
The  out  of  Burns.  The  poet  paid  a  heavy  penalty  for 
Robert  his  mistakes ;  and  in  spite  of  his  weaknesses 
the  world's  attitude  toward  genial  "  Bobbie  " 
Burns  is  that  of  an  indulgent  and  affectionate  compas- 
sion. His  wonderful  gift  of  song  remains  unrivaled  in 
our  later  literature,  and  that  inheritance  preserves  for 
us  the  best  of  Robert  Burns.  Into  his  verse  the  poet 
flung  himself:  his  patriotism,  his  blithe  humor,  the  wit 
of  the  philosopher,  the  laugh  of  the  boy.  His  love 
songs  arc  tender  with  emotion,  or  blaze  with  the  heat 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  313 

of  his  passion.  In  every  line  he  is  natural,  spontane- 
ous, carelessly  indiscreet.  The  frank  expression  of  his 
feeling  is  necessary,  inevitable.  In  his  love  of  nature 
he  pictures  exactly  what  he  sees  and  hears ;  he  is  real- 
istic to  the  last  degree.  He  is  impressed  by  the  things 
that  are  alive ;  his  interest  is  in  birds  and  beasts  and 
flowers  —  above  all  in  men.  He  sympathizes  with  the 
revolt  against  oppression,  and  the  literature  of  the 
Revolution  produced  nothing  finer  than  the  ringing 
appeal  of  his  noble  lines  :  — 

"  Then  let  us  pray  that  come  it  may 
(As  come  it  will  for  a'  that) 
That  Sense  and  Worth  o'er  a'  the  earth 
Shall  bear  the  gree  an'  a'  that ! 
For  a'  that  an'  a'  that, 
It 's  comin'  yet  for  a'  that, 
That  man  to  man  the  world  o'er 
Shall  brithers  be  for  a'  that." 1 

In  the  study  of  Burns  the  selections  provided  in  Number 
77  of  the  Riverside  Literature  Series  are  excel-  gugcres- 
lent.  A  glossary  of  Scotch  words  accompanies  this  tions  for 
text.  The  two  poems,  The  Cotter's  Saturday  u  y" 
Night  and  Tarn  0'  Shanter,  should  be  carefully  read.  It  will 
be  easy  to  recognize  in  the  first  resemblances  to  Gray's 
Elegy  and  Goldsmith's  The  Deserted  Village.  Point  out 
some  of  these  correspondences,  and  also  try  to  see  the  ori- 
ginality of  Burns's  own  expression  and  feeling.  What  is  the 
stanza  form  of  this  poem  ?  Why  does  the  poet  vary  in  his 
dialect  between  Scotch  and  English  —  with  what  effect  ? 
Indicate  some  of  the  expressions  winch  illustrate  Iris  realism 
and  his  naturalness  of  tone ;  again  point  out  passages  in 
which  imagery  and  phrasing  are  more  conventional.  What 
is  the  moral  of  the  poem  ?  Of  all  Burns's  poems  there  is 
none  more  characteristic  in  its  hearty,  rollicking  humor 
than  Tam  0' Shanter.  At  the  same  time,  in  the  midst  of  its 
boisterous  gayety  there  are  passages  of  high  poetical  power, 
1  Is  Therefor  Honest  Poverty. 


314  FROM   ADDISON   TO   BURNS 

over  which  a  careless  reader  may  slip  half-consciously,  swept 
on  by  the  torrent  of  furious  mirth.  Read  closely  lines 
53-78,  and  study  the  comparisons  and  phrasings.  Point 
out  personifications  and  metaphors.  Consider  the  effect  se- 
cured in  lines  73-78  by  using  the  words  rattling,  blast, 
speedy  gleams,  swallowed,  and  the  entire  verse  Loud,  deep, 
and  lang  the  thunder  bellowed.  Commit  the  entire  passage 
to  memory. 

What  seem  to  be  the  characteristic  qualities  of  the  poems 
To  a  Mouse  and  To  a  Mountain  Daisy  ?  Point  out  the 
elements  that  impress  you  most  and  tell  why  they  impress 
you. 

Give  considerable  attention  to  Burns's  songs,  especially  to 
Is  There  for  Honest  Poverty,  John  Anderson,  Duncan 
Gray,  Flow  Gently,  Sweet  Afton,  Highland  Mary,  To 
Mary  in  Heaven,  I  Love  My  Jean,  0  Wert  Thou  in  the 
Cauld  Blast,  A  Bed,  Bed  Bose,  Bonnie  Doon,  and  Scots 
Wha  Hae  wi'  Wallace  Bled.  It  is  easy  to  feel  the  lyric 
quality  in  these  poems  ;  but  try  also  to  appreciate  the  light- 
ness of  the  touch  and  the  perfect  naturalness  of  the  expres- 
sion. 

Read  the  Address  to  the  Unco'  Guid,  and  weigh  the  senti- 
ment as  well  as  its  application  in  the  poet's  own  experience. 

Carlyle's  Essay  on  Burns,  and  appropriate  sections  of 
Heroes  and  Hero  Worship,  should  be  read.  J.  C.  Shairp's 
Aspects  of  Poetry  and  On  Poetic  Interpretation  of  Nature 
(Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company)  may  be  consulted.  The 
biography  of  Burns  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series 
is  also  by  Shairp.  That  in  the  Great  Writers  Series  is  by 
Blackie.  Burns's  Poems  are  published  complete  in  the 
Riverside  Classics  and  (edited  by  W.  E.  Henley)  in  the 
Cambridge  Edition. 


ENGLISH 


315 


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CHAPTER  VI 
THE   NINETEENTH  CENTURY 

FROM   WORDSWORTH    TO   TENNYSON 

I.    The  New  Poetry :   Wordsworth,  Coleridge. 
II.    The  Romantic  Movement  in  English  Fiction:  Scott, 

III.  The  Revolutionary  Poets:  Byron,  Shelley. 

IV.  Romanticism  in  English  Prose  :  Lamb,  De  Quincey. 
V.   The  Great  Essayists  :  Macaulay,  Carljrle,  Ruskin. 

VI.    Maturity  of  the  English  Novel :  Dickens,  Thackeray5 

George  Eliot. 
VII.    The  Victorian  Poets:  Browning,  Tennyson. 

I.     THE   NEW   POETRY:    WORDSWORTH,   COLERIDGE. 

As  the  new  century  began  its  course,  the  roman- 
tic tendencies,  which  had  developed  with  increasing 
strength  in  the  verse  of  Thomson,  Gray,  Cowper,  and 
Burns,  reached  their  culmination  in  the  new  poetry  of 
William  *ne  m°dern  school.  Wordsworth  and  Cole- 
Words-  ridge,  intimately  associated  by  a  friendship 
1770-1850.  significantly  influential  upon  both,  are  closely 
Samuel         associated  also  in  their  relation  to  the  roman- 

Taylor  m 

Coleridge,      tic   movement.      It  is    interesting   and    also 

important  to  note  that  while  contributing 
equally  to  the  impetus  and  largeness  of  that  movement, 
their  contributions  represent  two  distinct  and  even  con- 
trasted phases  of  romantic  literature.  Simplicity  and 
naturalness  found  extreme  expression  in  the  poetry  of 
Wordsworth ;  the  mystical  and  weird  attracted  Cole- 
ridge. The  imagination  of  the  latter  wandered  among 
the  fantastic  creations  of  a  dream  world,  mysterious, 


INFLUENCES  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION    317 

splendid;  Wordsworth,  on  the  other  hand,  was  pro- 
foundly responsive  to  the  romantic  element  in  the 
world  of  common  life.  Among  English  poets  he  is 
nature's  great  interpreter,  contemplative,  calm,  yet 
prophet-like  in  the  voicing  of  his  message  to  men. 
William  Wordsworth  was  born  at  Cockermouth,  in 

Cumberland,  one    of    the   northern    English   _    . 

t»     t       woras- 
shires.     Here  lies  the  heart  of   the  English  worth's 

Lake  Country,  proverbial  for  the  beauty  and  Youth- 
impressiveness  of  its  scenery.  Its  hills  and  lakes  were 
around  him  in  his  youth ;  the  Derwent,  "  fairest  of  all 
rivers,"  flowed  near  the  homestead,  blending  its  mur- 
murs with  his  nurse's  song.  Wordsworth's  school  days 
were  spent  at  Hawkeshead,  where  he  learned  to  appre- 
ciate the  homely  comforts  and  simple  manners  of  the 
cottagers  with  whom  he  dwelt,  and  where  he  came  in 
closest  touch  with  nature  in  her  wildest  and  loveliest 
forms.  He  roamed  the  woods  alone,  climbed  the  crags, 
in  summer  and  winter  indulged  his  athletic  tastes  in  all 
the  outdoor  sports  suited  to  the  season.  Even  in  child- 
hood the  poet  spirit  of  the  boy  was  fascinated,  awed,  by 
the  solitude  of  forest  and  mountain,  hearing  a  Voice 
and  feeling  a  Presence  in  the  mysterious  environment 
of  nature's  secluded  haunts.1 

The  years  1787-91  were  passed  by  Wordsworth  at 
the  University  of  Cambridge.    The  period  was  influences 
marked  by  little  of  significance  in  the  poet's  ^^h 
life  other  than  his  eager  response  to  the  im-  Revolution, 
mediate  inspiration  of  the  hour.     With  whole-souled 
enthusiasm  he  welcomed  the  promptings  and  appeals  of 
the  Revolution.     Cowper  and  Burns  among  English 
poets  had  voiced  the  sentiments  of  liberty,  equality,  and 
universal  brotherhood.      Southey  and  Coleridge  were 

1  Read  the  account  of  the  poet's  childhood  and  school  times  in  The 
Prelude,  Book  i. 


318         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO   TENNYSON 

prompt  to  express  their  sympathy  with  the  cause,  and 
among  all  the  younger  men  there  was  none  more  ardent 
in  his  championship  than  Wordsworth.  When  a  few 
years  later  he  came  to  describe,  in  The  Prelude,  the 
sensations  and  emotions  of  that  time,  he  wrote  :  — 

"  Bliss  was  it  in  that  Dawn  to  be  alive, 
But  to  be  young  was  very  heaven." 

When  his  university  course  was  finished,  the  young 
graduate  spent  some  few  months  in  London,  looking 
on  at  the  multiform  life  of  the  capital;  but  France 
lured  him  forth,   and    in  1792  Wordsworth   went   to 
Paris.     He  viewed  the  rubbish  ruin  of  the  Bastile,  then 
left  the  disordered  city  to  travel  in  quieter  districts  of 
France.     In  October  of  the  same  year,  following  the 
September  massacres,  cheered  by  the  proclamation  of 
the  Republic,  he  returned  to  "  the  fierce  metropolis  " 
and  ranged  the  city  with  new  ardor.     But  the  horror 
of  recent  events  was  too  great,  and  the  poet  was  hardly 
able  to  throw  off  the  spell.     He  was  inclined  to  make 
common  cause  with  the  Girondists,  but  friends  at  home 
prevailed  upon  him  to  return.     Depressed  by  the  fail- 
ures of  the  Revolution,  melancholy  over  its  crimes,  the 
young  enthusiast  came  again  to  England,  disheartened 
and  doubting.     For  a  time    he  lost  faith   and  hope; 
then    by  the  affectionate  leading  of    his    only    sister, 
Dorothy   Wordsworth,  and  by  Nature's  self,  the  poet 
was  jruided  into 

"  those  sweet  counsels  between  head  and  heart, 
Whence  grew  that  genuine  knowledge,  fraught  with  peace." 1 

Wordsworth  and  his  sister  made  a  home  in  the  south 
Back  to  Na-  of  England,  in  Dorset  and  Somersetshire, 
ture-  until  1798.     The  quiet  of  the  country,  long 

rambles  across  the  downs,  and  the  charm  of  rural  life 

1  Read  the  account  of  the  poet's  residence  in  France,  and  its  influ- 
ence, in  The  Prelude,  Book  x. 


COLERIDGE  319 

combined  to  create  an  atmosphere  in  which  the  poet's 
serener  self  gradually  awoke  to  the  consciousness  of  its 
peculiar  gift.  In  1793  Wordsworth  published  a  slight 
volume  of  Descriptive  /Sketches.  In  1797  Coleridge 
came  to  visit  him  at  Racedown ;  and  the  acquaintance 
which  had  been  previously  formed  ripened  into  friend- 
ship, intimate  and  life-long. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge   was  born  in  Ottery,   St. 

Mary's,  in  Devonshire.     Precocious  and  im-  „  ,   „ 
J   .'  .  Coleridge. 

aginative,  he  passed  the  years  of  childhood 
without  experiencing  the  thoughts  or  exhibiting  the 
actions  of  a  child.  At  Christ's  Hospital,  a  charity  school, 
where  he  found  a  classmate  and  comrade  in  young 
Charles  Lamb,  Coleridge  won  distinction  as  a  scholar. 
He  was  deeply  interested  in  metaphysics,  was  given  also 
to  day-dreams  and  to  poetry.  In  1791  he  entered  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  and  soon  became  well  known 
for  his  radical  views.  With  the  extreme  ideas  of  the 
revolutionary  movement  he  appeared  to  be  in  hearty 
sympathy.  A  Utopian  scheme  to  establish  an  ideal  com- 
munity somewhere  on  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna 
enlisted  the  active  cooperation  of  both  Coleridge  and 
Southey,  but  this  dream  of  a  new  Pantisocracy,  as  they 
called  it,  did  not  materialize.  Coleridge  now  turned 
seriously  to  writing  and  lecturing  as  his  vocation.  In 
1795  he  married  and  settled  at  Clevedon  in  Somerset- 
shire. He  next  appeared  as  the  editor  of  a  radical 
publication  called  The  Watchman,  which  came  to  an 
end  with  the  tenth  number ;  he  was  often  heard  dis- 
coursing upon  political  and  economic  questions  in  the 
pulpits  of  Unitarian  chapels.  In  1797  he  moved  to 
Nether  Stowey,  and  was  living  there  when  the  intimacy 
with  Wordsworth  began. 

In  spite  of  some  essential  differences  in  theory  and 
method,  these  two  poets  were  attracted  to  each  other  by 


320         FROM  WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

a  very  definite  agreement  in  sympathies  and  ideals. 
The  Lyrical  They  determined  to  combine  their  forces ;  and 
Ballads.  as  a  resuJt  of  their  plans  there  appeared  in 
1798  the  volume  of  Lyrical  Ballads.  No  more  sig- 
nificant collection  of  poems  was  ever  published.  In 
accordance  with  the  plan  adopted,  poems  were  in- 
cluded illustrating  the  theory  of  each  writer.  It  was 
Wordsworth's  purpose  to  show  how  interest  may  be 
aroused  by  imaginative  treatment  of  the  commonplace, 
while  Coleridge  sought  to  make  the  supernatural  im- 
pressively real  through  the  truthfulness  of  the  emotions 
awakened.  Most  significant  of  Wordsworth's  contri- 
butions were  the  simple  narrative  poems,  such  as  Mar- 
garet (afterward  incorporated  in  The  Excursion), 
Expostulation  and  Reply,  The  Tables  Turned,  Simon 
Lee,  The  Old  Cumberland  Beggar,  The  Idiot  Boy, 
and  Peter  Bell.  These  compositions  aptly  illustrated 
the  poet's  insistent  principle  of  simplicity  in  form  and 
diction  —  some  of  them  extravagantly.  One  or  two  of 
the  poems  rose  measurably  above  the  rest ;  the  unmis- 
takable note  of  a  great  genius  was  struck  in  the  splen- 
did Lines,  Composed  a  Few  Miles  above  Tintern 
Abbey.  Coleridge  was  represented  in  the  volume  by 
that  unique  masterpiece  of  weirdness  and  melody,  The 
Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner.  In  spite  of  their  sig- 
nificance the  new  poems  were  received  with  ridicule,  if 
not  with  contempt.  A  scattered  few  rose  to  the  appre- 
ciation and  enjoyment  of  the  work. 

Coleridge  and  the  Wordsworths  now  went  abroad 
—  Coleridge  to  become  absorbed  in  German  meta- 
physics, Wordsworth  and  his  sister  to  pass  a  quiet, 
almost  lonely  winter  in  the  little  town  of  Goslar.  Here 
the  poet  composed  new  ballads,  including  Lucy  Gray, 
Ruth,  and  Nutting  ;  he  also  wrote  some  of  the  pas- 
sages which  appeared  later  in  The  Prelude. 


WORDSWORTH'S   POEMS  321 

In  the  spring  of  1799  the  Wordsworths  arrived  again 
in  England ;  and  as  a  result  of  a  pedestrian  At  Gras. 
tour  in  Cumberland,  taken  together  with  mere- 
Coleridge,  who  also  had  just  returned  from  Germany, 
they  once  more  settled  in  the  beautiful  Lake  region, 
their  early  home.  The  poet  and  his  sister  rented  a 
cottage  at  Grasmere.  In  1800  Coleridge  removed  his 
household  to  Keswick,  and  three  years  later  was  joined 
by  the  poet  Southey.  This  neighborly  association  gave 
rise  to  the  term  the  Lake  poets,  a  title  which,  beyond 
indicating  a  certain  sympathy  in  taste  and  purpose,  has 
little  technical  significance. 

At  Grasmere,  where  Wordsworth  lived  until  remov- 
ing to  Kydal  Mount  in  1813,  the  poet  produced  his 
most  impressive  verse.  A  second  edition  of  the  Lyrical 
Ballads  in  1800  contained  a  prose  preface  in  which 
Wordsworth  set  forth  his  theory  of  verse,  maintaining 
that  the  language  of  poetry  should  be  that  of  real  life. 
While  the  critics  continued  to  ridicule  the  new  poetry 
and  its  author's  peculiar  views,  the  younger  generation 
of  readers  was  beginning  to  enjoy  the  truthfulness 
and  pathos  of  rustic  character  and  the  realistic  natural- 
ness of  country  life  and  scene  as  presented  in  the 
ballads. 

In  1802  the  poet  married  an  old  schoolmate,  his 
cousin,  Mary  Hutchinson, — 

"  A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 
For  human  nature's  daily  food ; 
For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiles, 
Praise,  blame,  love,  kisses,  tears  and  smiles."  * 

Besides  the  Sonnets  —  some  of  which  rank  among 
our  best  compositions  in  this  field  of  verse  —  subsequent 
the  important  poems  of  Wordsworth's  ma-  Poems, 
turity  are  The  Ode  to  Duty  (1805),  the  great  Ode  on 
1  She  was  a  Phantom  of  Delight  (1804). 


322         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

the  Intimations,  of  Immortality  (180(3),  The  White  Doe 
ofllylstonc  (published  in  1815),  Laodamia  (1814),  and 
The  Excursion  (1814).  This  last  composition  forms 
only  a  part  in  a  larger  design,  which  embraced  a  long 
philosophical  poem  to  be  called  The  liecluse.  In  this 
poem  the  poet  purposed  to  express  his  views  on  man, 
nature,  and  society.  As  an  introduction  to  the  work, 
he  first  wrote  The  Prelude  (completed  in  1805),  an 
interesting  autobiography  with  particular  reference  to 
his  mental  experiences  and  philosophical  growth.  The 
Excursion  constitutes  the  second  section  of  this  work, 
in  which  various  characters  are  introduced,  furnishing 
a  medium  through  which  the  poet's  views  find  an  ex- 
pression. Of  the  main  poem,  The  liecluse,  intended 
to  express  the  sensations  and  opinions  of  a  poet  living 
in  retirement,  only  the  first  book  was  completed  ;  and 
it  was  not  until  1888  that  this  fragment  was  published. 
"When  The  Excursion  appeared,  it  was  little  read ; 
only  500  copies  were  sold  in  the  next  six  years.  Then, 
little  by  little,  appreciation  grew.  In  1815  the  poet 
published  his  collected  works,  classifying  them  as 
Poems  of  the  Imagination,  Poems  of  the  Fancy,  Poems 
of  Reflection,  etc.  Sympathetic  readers  increased. 
In  1843,  upon  the  death  of  Southey,  then  poet-laureate, 
Wordsworth  was  honored  with  the  appointment  in  his 
place. 

In  quiet  retirement  he  lived  out  the  days  of  a  serene 
and  uneventful  life.  He  traveled  somewhat,  lived 
much  in  the  open  air,  and  composed  industriously. 
The  ardent  poet  of  the  Revolution  had  long  since 
settled  down  into  staid  and  safe  conservatism.  He 
died  at  the  age  of  eighty,  and  was  buried  in  his  be- 
loved vale  of  Grasmere. 

The  actual  production  of  Coleridge's  genius  was 
disappointingly  small.     In  the  winter  of  1797  the  poet 


THE  LATER  WORK  OF  COLERIDGE  323 

wrote  the  first  part  of  Christabel  and  the  wonderfully 

melodious  fragment  of  Kubla  Khan,  statins; 

&  l         -i      -i  V  •       Tie  Later 

that  a  poem  two  or  three  hundred  lines  in  work  of 

length  had  been  composed  by  him  during  ° eri  ge" 
sleep,  that  the  fifty-four  lines  of  the  fragment  were 
written  immediately  upon  awaking,  and  that  the  in- 
terruption of  a  visit  had  effectually  banished  the 
remainder  from  his  memory.  This  uncompleted  poem, 
together  with  Christabel  and  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient 
Mariner,  affords  a  remarkable  example  of  tone  effect, 
the  subtle  influence  of  which  was  understood  by  Cole- 
ridge as,  perhaps,  by  no  other  English  poet.  Strongly 
impressed  by  the  genius  of  Schiller,  Coleridge  pub- 
lished, in  1800,  a  masterly  translation  of  the  drama 
Wallenstein.  The  second  part  of  Christabel  was 
written  in  that  same  year,  and  in  1802  he  composed 
the  Ode  to  Dejection,  almost  the  last  of  his  important 
poetical  works. 

From  1803  to  1816  Coleridge  was  almost  a  wan- 
derer—  without  a  recognized  home,  absent  from  his 
family,  dependent  upon  friends,  miserable  over  his 
failures,  rarely  accomplishing  an  occasional  success. 
His  great  intellect  was  handicapped  with  a  weak  will, 
and  his  infirmity  was  aggravated  by  the  fact  that  he 
had  become  an  unhappy  victim  to  the  use  of  opium. 
Many  important  undertakings  were  planned,  to  be  left 
half  completed  or  wholly  unattempted.  The  Friend, 
a  literary,  moral,  and  political  journal,  which  ran 
through  twenty-seven  numbers  (1809-10),  the  lec- 
tures on  Shakespeare  and  the  poets,  the  Biographia 
Literaria  (1817),  in  which  he  analyzed  the  poetical 
theories  of  Wordsworth  and  published  passages  from 
his  inimitable  Table  Talk,  constitute,  with  the  poems 
already  named,  the  most  important  of  his  contributions 
to  permanent  literature.     In  1816  Coleridge  found  an 


324         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

asylum  in  the  hospitable  home  of  a  Mr.  Gillman.  He 
lived  the  life  of  a  speculative  student,  devoted  to  the 
study  and  interpretation  of  the  German  philosopher 
Immanuel  Kant.     He  died  peacefully  in  1834. 

Wordsworth    stands    by  himself  among  the   poets. 
„,  While  it  is  common  to  associate  the  names 

Words- 
worth's       of  Wordsworth  and  Burns,  the  resemblance 

English        between  the  two  is  one  of  spirit,  not  of  ex- 

Poetry.         pression.     In  many  essential  points  they  are 

wholly  unlike.     Wordsworth  gracefully  and  adequately 

describes  his  obligation  to  Burns  — 

"  Whose  light  I  hailed  when  first  it  shone, 
And  showed  my  youth 
How  Verse  may  build  a  princely  throne 
On  humble  truth."  1 

Upon  this  foundation  of  "  humble  truth  "  the  poetry  of 
William  Wordsworth  was  consistently  and  ever  based. 
The  intimate  relations  between  Nature  and  Man  he  in- 
terpreted as  no  other  poet  ever  tried  to  do.  Instinc- 
tively and  without  effort,  he  fell  into  that  blessed  mood 
in  which, 

"  With  an  eye  made  quiet  by  the  power 
Of  harmony,  and  the  deep  power  of  joy, 
We  see  into  the  life  of  things."  2 

"  Every  great  poet  is  a  teacher,"  he  declared  ;  "  I  wish 
to  be  considered  as  a  teacher,  or  as  nothing."  "To 
console  the  afflicted,  to  add  sunshine  to  daylight  by 
making  the  happy  happier,  to  teach  the  young  and 
gracious  of  every  age  to  see,  to  think,  and  feel,  and 
therefore  to  become  more  actively  and  sincerely  virtu- 
ous," 3  —  this  he  affirmed  to  be  the  purpose  of  his  art, 
and  his  hope  for  his  verse. 

1  At  the  Grave  of  Burns  (1803). 

2  Tintern  Abbey. 

8  Letter  to  Lady  Beaumont.     See  also  the  sonnet  To  B.  R-  Haydon, 
M  High  is  our  calling,  Friend.'1 


WORDSWORTH'S   PLACE  325 

Hence  it  comes  that  Wordsworth  is  always  sub- 
jective ;  his  poetry  is  the  poetry  of  meditation  and 
counsel ;  his  studies  of  nature  and  of  human  character 
are  inspired  with  the  idea  of  inculcating  lessons  of  sym- 
pathy and  love  and  faith.  After  that  first  turbulence 
of  youthful  ardor  had  given  place  to  the  calmer  mood, 
the  poet's  spiritual  life  grew  simple  and  serene.  He 
deplored  the  fact  that 

"  Plain  living  and  high  thinking  are  no  more  ;" 

but  this  suggestive  phrase  truthfully  describes  the  life 
he  led. 

Simplicity  is  the  essential   characteristic  of  Words- 
worth's    verse,  —  a    simplicity    that    insists  his  Choice 
upon   spontaneous  expression  and  precludes   of  Materlal- 
the    artificial    elaboration    of    an    elaborate   art. 

In  his  material  as  well  as  in  his  language  he  chose 
the  common  type.  Like  Chaucer  and  like  Burns,  he 
sang  of  the  field  daisy  — 

"  Nun  demure  of  lowly  port." 

The  "  little,  humble  Celandine  "  receives  his  praise. 
The  tumultuous  harmony  of  the  nightingale  is  to  him 
a  song  in  mockery ;  the  stock-dove's  homely  tale  con- 
tents him :  he 

"  Cooed  and  cooed  ; 
And  somewhat  pensively  he  wooed ; 
He  sang  of  love  with  quiet  blending, 
Slow  to  begin,  and  never  ending  ; 
Of  serious  faith  and  inward  glee  ; 
That  was  the  song  —  the  song  for  me  !  "  * 

In  humble  homes  and  hearts  Wordsworth  discovered 
elements  that  command  respect  and  call  forth  admi- 
ration ;  hence  almost  all  his  narrative  pieces  illus- 
trate and  interpret  some  phase  of  the  quiet  life.  He 
was  oftenest  impressed  by  the  pathetic  annals  of  the 

1  O  Nightingale  .'  thou  surely  art. 


32G         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

poor,  and  found  a  helpful  lesson  in  the  simplest  tale. 
Michael,  the  Grasmere  shepherd, 

"  An  old  man,  stout,  of  heart,  and  stiong  of  limb," 

bowed,  but  not  crushed  b}^  his  burden,  proves  that 
there  is  a  comfort  in  the  strength  of  love.  The 
ancient  leech-gatherer  on  the  weary  moor,  searching 
muddy  pools  for  his  slimy  spoil,  replies  cheerily  to  the 
poet's  queries :  — 

"  Once  I  could  meet  with  them  on  every  side  ; 
But  they  have  dwindled  long  by  slow  decay ; 
Yet  still  I  persevere,  and  find  them  where  I  may. 


I  could  have  laughed  myself  to  scorn  to  find 

In  that  decrepit  Man  so  firm  a  mind. 

'  God,'  said  I,  '  be  my  help  and  stay  secure  ; 

I  '11  think  of  the  Leech-gatherer  on  the  lonely  moor.' "  * 

The  histories  of  Margaret  and  Ruth,  the  simple  nar- 
ratives of  Lucy  Gray  and  Alice  Fell,  reflect  the  poet's 
ready  sympathy   in  all  the  sorrows  of  the  weak  and 
young.     As  might  be  expected,  Wordsworth  took  an 
intense  interest  in  the  unconscious  wisdom  of  a  child. 
The    great    significance    of    Wordsworth's    work    is 
found  in  his  attitude  to  nature.     He  does  not 
merely  describe  her  forms,  nor  does  he  study 
her  various   processes.     To  him  nature   is  alive  with 
an  informing  spirit  which  ever  instructs,  chastens,  and 
elevates  the  thoughtful  mind.     I  fer  kindlier  phases  im- 
press him  wholly ;  and  thus  the  lessons  that  he  brings 
arc  those  of  assurance,  calmness,  inspiration,  and  hope. 

"  The  Being  that  is  in  the  clouds  and  air, 
That  is  in  the  green  leaves  among  the  groves, 
Maintains  a  deep  and  reverential  care 
For  tli'  unoffending  creatures  whom  he  loves."  - 

It  was  natural  that  a  soul  so  susceptible  should  feel 
the  mystical  power  of  nature's  vital  forces,  —  "  the  liv- 

1  Resolution  and  Independence. 

2  Hart-Leap  Well. 


NATURE  327 

ing  Presence  of  the  Earth."  1  Even  in  his  youth  he 
was  conscious  of  this  influence.2  His  poetry  is  full  of 
allusions  to  the  Vision  and  the  Voice.  A  curious  child 
listens  to  the  murmurings  of  a  smooth-lipped  shell ;  and 
the  poet  exclaims  :  — 

"  Even  such  a  shell  the  universe  itself 
Is  to  the  ear  of  Faith ;  and  there  are  times, 
I  doubt  not,  when  to  you  it  doth  impart 
Authentic  tidings  of  invisible  things."  3 

In  the  enthusiasm  of  revolt  against  the  conventional 
and  artificial  forms  of  the  classic  school,  Wordsworth's 
early  ballads  are  aggressive  in  their  naive  simplicity  of 
style.  There  are  many  prosy  passages  of  dubious  verse 
in  his  later  and  longer  compositions.  And  at  the  same 
time,  allowing  for  his  obvious  limitations  in  breadth  of 
expression  and  of  view,  we  recognize  a  sane  mind  and  a 
wealth  of  wonderful  poetry  in  "Wordsworth's  collected 
works.  Among  the  many  definitions  at  various  times 
attempted  for  that  elusive  term  poetry,  there  is  one 
by  Stedman  which  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  Poetry  is  rhythmical,  imaginative  language,  expressing 
the  invention,  taste,  thought,  passion,  and  insight  of  the 
human  soul."  4 

The  suggestiveness  of  this  definition  is  particularly 
helpful  in  estimating  Wordsworth's  place.  For  eleva- 
tion, serenity,  and  insight  there  are  few  compositions 
that  surpass  Tintern  Abbey,  Laodamia,  the  Ode  to 
Duty,  Tlie  Intimations  of  Immortality,  and  The  Ex- 
cursion. 

1  The  Recluse. 

2  "  Oh  ye  rocks  and  streams, 
And  that  still  spirit  shed  from  evening  air ! 
Even  in  tlds  joyous  time  I  sometimes  felt 
Your  presence."  —  The  Prelude,  Book  i. 

s  The  Excursion,  Book  iv. 

*  The  Century  Magazine,  April,  1894.  A  lecture  delivered  at  Colum- 
bia University. 


328         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

Poetical  expression  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century 
had  hecome  a  very  different  thing  from  what  it 
tlons  for        was  at  the  beginning.     The  first  aim,  therefore,  in 
Study.  |.jie  stU(iy  0f  Wordsworth's  verse  should  be  to  re- 

cognize the  direction  and  value  of  the  progress  that  had  been 
made.  To  understand  this,  examine  a  few  of  the  early  bal- 
lads, in  which  simplicity  of  thought  and  naturalness  of  expres- 
sion are  strongly  emphasized.  Note  the  sort  of  subject  which 
predominates,  and  think  how  far  removed  from  Pope's  con- 
ception of  nature  "  methodised  "  is  Wordsworth's 

"  Simple  Nature  trained  by  careful  Art." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  impute  a  large  intrinsic  value  to  all 
the  representative  compositions  of  the  early  period,  but  the 
sincerity  and  spontaneity  are  worthy  of  appreciation.  Per- 
haps the  happiest  illustration  of  Wordsworth's  method  suc- 
cessfully applied  is  found  in  that  little  classic  of  childhood, 
We  are  Seven. 

We  are  Seven.  The  first  stanza,  containing  the  real 
thought  of  this  simple  tale,  was  suggested  by  Coleridge.  The 
significance  of  the  poem  is,  of  course,  its  absolutely  harmonious 
treatment  of  an  entirely  simple,  yet  impressive  theme,  —  the 
inability  of  a  child  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  death. 
The  ballad  measure  lends  itself  naturally  to  its  development. 
The  simple  language,  the  colloquialisms,  are  in  keeping ;  the 
stockings  and  the  kerchief,  even  the  little  porringer,  are  not 
unnecessary  adjuncts.  But  the  poetical  effectiveness  —  that 
which  makes  of  the  composition  a  true  poem  —  is  the  artless 
pathos  of  the  little  maid's  reply,  so  naturally  and  truthfully 
interpreted  by  a  sympathetic  mind. 

T intern  Abbey.  The  first  important  example  of  Words- 
worth's real  genius  was  the  poem  composed  near  Tintern 
Abbey,  the  remarkable  Lines  on  Revisiting  the  Banks  of  the 
Wye.  Study  the  composition  with  reference  to  its  theme,  the 
spiritual  effect  of  personal  communion  with  nature.  First 
analyze  the  poem.  The  introduction  (lines  1-22)  describes 
the  return  of  the  poet  to  this  favored  spot.  What  is  the 
general  subject  of  the  passage  which  follows  (lines  23-49)  ? 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  329 

In  the  third  section  of  the  poem  (lines  49-111)  trace  the 
develojmient  recorded  through  what  Dowden  has  termed  the 
periods  "  of  the  blood,  of  the  senses,  of  the  imagination,  of 
the  soul."  How  is  each  described  ?  To  whom  does  the  poet 
address  himself  in  the  conclusion  ?  Does  the  composition 
gain  as  a  whole  through  this  personal  address  ? 

The  poem  should  now  be  read  with  careful  reference  to 
technical  and  artistic  details.  The  blank-verse  form  should 
be  considered.  How  does  it  comport  with  the  general  seri- 
ousness and  dignity  of  the  theme  ?  In  structure  of  verse, 
disposition  of  pause,  variation  of  rhythm,  points  of  effective 
technique  may  be  noted.  A  comparison  may  be  made  with 
passages  in  Paradise  Lost  and  The  Task.  What  is  the 
effect  of  a  comparison  with  the  heroic  couplet  used  by 
Pope? 

Next  examine  the  diction  of  this  poem.  It  will  be  found 
that  the  simplicity  of  these  Lines  is  more  impressive  than 
that  oftenest  found  in  the  ballads.  It  is  elemental  and  upon 
a  different  plane.  The  "  language  of  prose  "  gives  place  to 
the  language  of  poetry  ;  a  powerful  imagination,  powerfully 
excited,  supplies  the  tropes  and  comparisons  here  introduced. 
Analyze  the  picture  of  the  quiet  landscape  described  in  the 
opening  lines.  What  points  in  that  description  emphasize 
the  quiet  seclusion  of  the  scene  ?  How  is  its  tranquilizing 
influence  projected  in  the  following  passage  ?  What  is  the 
significance  of  the  allusion  to  "  that  best  portion  of  a  good 
man's  life "  (lines  30-35)  ?  Note  each  word  used  in  the 
lines  which  follow  and  its  individual  aptness  to  the  thought ; 
the  compact  suggestiveness  of  these  lines  is  extraordinary. 

As  opposed  to  the  idea  of  quiet  calm  induced  by  the  nat- 
ural influences  of  the  scene,  what  phrases  does  the  poet  use 
to  suggest  the  "  fretful  stir "  of  common  life  ?  Examine 
closely  the  language  of  the  poet  in  the  description  of  his 
youthful  passion  for  nature ;  what  is  the  appropriateness  of 
such  phrases  as  "  aching  joys,"  "  dizzy  raptures  "  ?  Com- 
mit to  memory  the  passage  beginning  "  For  I  have  learned  " 
(lines  88-102).  Weigh  the  thought.  Consider  the  force  of 
each  word  in  these  lines  :  — 


1 


330         FROM  WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

"  The  still  sa<l  music  of  humanity, 
Nor  harsh  nor  grating,  though  of  ample  power 
To  chasten  and  subdue." 

Follow  on  with  the  next  line  —  and  the  next.  Read  them 
aloud.  These  passages  belong  to  the  "  grand  style  "  of  gen- 
ius, whether  it  be  called  Shakespearian,  Miltonic,  or  Words- 
worthian. 

Ode    on    the   Intimations    of   Immortality.      This 
poem,   which    Emerson    characterized  as    "  the   high-water 
mark  which  the  intellect  has  reached  in  this  age,"  is  not  an 
argument  but  a  reminder  of  this  early  consciousness  and  an 
enforcement  of  the  common  faith.     The  theme  of  the  Ode, 
suggested  in  We  are  Seven,  is  the  idea  that  the  sense  of  im- 
mortality is  incident  to  the  conceptions  of  childhood  ;  that  with 
development  toward  maturity  this  sense  is  more  and  more  ob- 
scured, until  it  remains  only  in  the  dim  recollection  of  what 
once  was.     The  poem  begins  with  a  lyric  passage  (stanzas 
-iv.)  descriptive  of  the  poet's  early  sympathy  with  nature  — 
the  experience  reflected  in  so  many  of  his  compositions.     The 
tone  of  melancholy  is  emphasized  through  contrast  with  the 
joyousness  of  children  and  the  brightness  of  Nature  herself : 
yet  all  repeat  the  tale ;  the  vision  and  the  glory  have  fled. 
What  is  it  that  has  disappeared  ?     The   following  section 
(stanzas  v.-ix.)  contains  the  philosophical  development  of  the 
theme  ;  trace  its  development.     Stanza  vii.,  parenthetically 
illustrating   the  poet's   theory,   appears    to  have  been   sug- 
gested by  young  Hartley  Coleridge,  the  poet's  oldest  child. 
The  significance  of  this  illustration  does  not  appear  until 
the  question,  "  Why  with  such  earnest  pains  ?  "  (stanza  viii.). 
What  then  is  its  application  here  ?     Notice  now  the  change 
of    tone   from   regret  to   satisfaction   as   the   poet  advances 
(stanza  ix.)  the  real  thought  of  the  Ode.     Though  fugitive 
and  doubtful,  these  shadowy  recollections 

"  Are  yet  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day, 
Are  yet  a  master  light  of  all  our  seeing  ; 
Uphold  us,  cherish,  and  have  power  to  make 
Our  noisy  years  seem  moments  in  the  being 
Of  the  eternal  Silence." 


BRIEF  BIBLIOGRAPHY  331 

The  further  application  of  this  poetical  idea  is  continued 
(stanzas  x.,  xi.),  and  the  poem  ends  with  the  note  of  convic- 
tion and  gratitude.  The  Ode  reveals  an  intense  imagination 
expressing  itself  in  a  succession  of  exalted  and  impassioned 
figures.     It  gleams  with 

"  The  light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land. " 

It  was  not  Wordsworth's  intention  seriously  to  teach  the 
doctrine  of  preexistence,  but  to  emphasize  poetically  one 
phase  of  our  instinctive  confidence  in  immortality. 

Read  the  poems  referred  to  in  the  sketch  of  Wordsworth's 
life.  Compare  Michael,  a  pastoral  poem,  with  Further 
one  of  Pope's  Pastorals.  Of  the  sonnets,  study  Reading, 
the  following:  The  World  is  too  much  with  us,  It  is  a 
Beauteous  Evening  Calm  and  Free,  Composed  on  West- 
minster Bridge,  To  B.  R.  Haydon,  Milton.  Compare  these 
sonnets  with  those  of  Milton  and  Shakespeare  :  what  dis- 
tinction do  you  find  in  Wordsworth's  ?  Of  the  lyrical  poems, 
read  especially  The  Solitary  Reaper,  The  Primrose  of  the 
Rock,  The  Grave  of  Burns.  Read  at  least  Book  i.  of  The 
Excursion. 

Among  the  texts  of  Wordsworth's  poems,  The  Globe  Edi- 
tion, edited  by  John  Morley,  is  especially  men-  Brlel  Bibll- 
tioned.  For  classroom  study,  the  Selections  from  ography. 
Wordsworth  edited,  with  an  essay,  by  Matthew  Arnold,  in 
the  Golden  Treasury  Series,  and  the  Selections  edited  by 
Edward  Dowden  (Ginn)  are  recommended.  Number  76  of 
the  Riverside  Literature  Series  contains  the  Ode  on  the  In- 
timations  of  Immortality  and  a  number  of  the  shorter  poems. 
Knight's  Life  (Macmillan,  3  vols.)  is  a  standard  biography  ; 
Myers's  Wordsworth,  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series, 
is  a  good  brief  biography.  The  Prelude  itself  is  an  inter- 
esting autobiographical  poem,  and  should  not  be  overlooked. 
The  essays  on  Wordsworth  by  James  Russell  Lowell  {Among 
my  Books)  and  by  Walter  Pater  are  themselves  literature, 
and  should  be  read.  Augustus  H.  Strong's  The  Great  Poets 
and  their  Theology  contains  an  analysis  of  Wordsworth's 
teaching.      An   edition  of  Wordsworth's    Prose   Prefaces, 


332         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO  TENNYSON 

edited  by  A.  J.  George  (Heath),  will  be  found  helpful  to  an 
understanding  of  the  poet's  theory  of  versification. 

Closely  associated  in  friendly  relations  with  Words- 
worth and  Coleridge,  and  often  included  with 
Southey,  them  as  one  of  the  Lake  poets  so  called, 
1774-1843.  wag  R0bert;  Southey,  who  settled  at  Greta 
Hall,  Keswick,  in  1803  and  there  made  his  home  until 
his  death.  Southey  was  born  at  Bristol,  the  son  of  a 
linen  draper.  While  a  student  at  Balliol  College,  Ox- 
ford, he  caught  the  fever  of  radical  republicanism  like 
the  other  young  enthusiasts  of  that  revolutionary  age. 
Here  he  was  visited  by  Coleridge  and  joined  in  the 
scheme  to  found  a  Pantisocracy  on  the  Susquehanna,  as 
described  in  the  sketch  of  Coleridge. 

While  a  student  he  wrote  much  mediocre  verse,  in- 
cluding a  poetical  drama,  Wat  Tyler,  extremely  radi- 
cal in  character  and  published,  to  the  poet's  annoyance, 
surreptitiously  in  1817.  His  Joan  of  Arc,  a  spirited 
rendering  of  Schiller's  great  play,  appeared  in  1795, 
an  offering  to  the  revolutionary  movement  and  expres- 
sive of  its  author's  sympathy  with  the  cause.  After 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  at  the  study  of  medicine,  and 
a  similar  failure  in  the  study  of  law,  Southey  settled 
down  to  a  life  of  industrious,  incessant  authorship. 
As  a  poet  he  never  rose  to  the  level  of  his  two  famous 
contemporaries,  although  his  romantic  poems,  Thalaba 
(1801),  Madoc  (1805),  The  Curse  of  Kehama  (1810), 
and  Roderick  (1814)  were,  at  least  in  part,  successful 
enough  to  win  him  the  honor  of  the  laureateship  in 
1813.  His  Life  of  Nelson,  completed  in  that  same 
year,  is  one  of  our  best  biographies  ;  and  other  of  his 
narrative  essays  raise  Southey  to  a  high  rank  among 
prose  writers.  More  methodical  in  his  habits  than  some 
of  his  move  gifted  friends,  his  hospitable  home  sheltered 


THE   ROMANTIC   MOVEMENT  333 

the  family  of  Coleridge  and  that  of  one  other  enthusiast 
in  the  Pantisocratic  circle.  Many  honors  and  some 
wealth  came  to  the  poet  in  his  later  years,  but  his  lit- 
erary fame  rests  rather  upon  the  rich  qualities  of  his 
prose  than  upon  his  verse,  which  to-day  is  but  little  read. 

II.    THE   ROMANTIC    MOVEMENT    IN    ENGLISH    FICTION  : 

SCOTT. 

The  first  indications  of  a  romantic  tendency  in  Eng- 
lish fiction  are  found  in  a  few  works  of  the 
later  eighteenth  century  novelists,  among  eg  ngs" 
whom  Horace  Walpole  (1717-97),  the  intimate  friend 
of  the  poet  Gray,  and  Mrs.  Anne  Radcliffe  (1774- 
1823)  are  foremost.  The  Castle  of  Otranto,  written 
by  the  former  in  1764,  was  so  far  beyond  the  bounds 
of  reason  as  to  have  suggested,  and  not  unplausib.ly, 
that  its  author,  a  man  of  taste  nnd  leisure,  had  in- 
tended his  production  as  a  satire  rather  than  a  novel. 
Howbeit,  we  have  here  a  tale  of  sights  and  sounds 
uncanny  ;  dismal  corridors  echo  to  unearthly  groans  ; 
portraits  speak  ;  underground  passages  form  an  impor- 
tant part  of  the  machinery  of  the  plot.  The  prominent 
characters  disappear  mysteriously,  and  as  unexpect- 
edly reappear.  There  is  in  the  castle  courtyard  a 
gigantic  helmet  whose  black  plumes  nod  ominously 
when  messengers  approach  the  place.  The  story  is  an 
attempt  to  describe  the  manners  of  the  feudal  period. 
With  its  crudity  and  extravagance,  the  novel  stands 
as  the  first  example  of  the  so-called  gothic  romance 
in  our  literature.  A  stronger  work  than  Walpole's 
romance  is  The  History  of  the  Caliph  Vathek,  by 
William  Beckford.  While  more  extraordinary  in  its 
wildness  of  fancy  than  The  Castle  of  Otranto,  the 
oriental  setting  of  Vathek,  its  remarkable  likeness  to 
some  tale  among  the  thousand  and  one  of  the  Arabian 


334         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Nights,  above  all,  its  careful  consistency  in  the  situa- 
tions and  characters  of  the  plot,  have  given  to  this  tale 
a  length  of  life  shared  by  no  other  of  these  fantastic 
romances.      The    book  was   written    in   Fxench  while 
Beckford  was  traveling  on  the  continent,  and  an  Eng- 
lish translation  was  published  without  permission  in 
1784.     The  climax  of  gothic  romanticism  was  reached 
in  the  work  of  Mrs.  Radcliffe,  who  published  during 
the  years  1789-97  five  novels  of  mystery  and  terror, 
of  which  The  3£ysteries  of  Udolpho  (1794)  was  con- 
sidered the  most  impressive  in  its  day.     Under  the  in- 
fluence  of    this   weird    tale,  Matthew   Gregory  Lewis 
published  The  Monk  in  1795,  a  novel  which  became 
extremely    popular    and    fixed    its    writer's    name    as 
"  Monk  "   Lewis   ever   after.     Lewis  was  strongly  im- 
pressed by  German  romanticism  ;  he  had  met  Goethe 
and  had  translated  Schiller's  Kabale  und  Liebe  for 
the  English   stage.     He  wrote  TJie  Castle    Spectre,  a 
musical  drama,  and  an   opera  entitled  Adelmorn  the 
Outlaw.     One  of  his  best  novels,  The  Bravo  of  Venice 
(1804),  was  based  upon  the  robber  drama,  Abellino, 
of  the  German  romanticist  Zschokke.     William  God- 
win's Caleb  Williams  (1794)  followed  the  method  of 
the  gothic  romance,  but  subordinated  its  romanticism 
to  a  didactic   purpose ;  it  embodied  the  spirit  of  the 
Revolution   and  was  intended  as  a  protest  against  the 
existing  social  order. 

These  were  the  first  expressions  of  the  romantic 
movement  in  English  fiction.  It  was  not  until  the  ad- 
vent of  Walter  Scott  that  the  romance  proper  reached 
the  hijrh  level  it  has  since  maintained. 

Walter  Scott  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  August  15, 
1771.  His  father,  whose  name  was  also  Walter,  was 
a  Writer  to  the  Signet,  or  attorney  at  law.  His  pa- 
ternal ancestry  contained  many  famous  names.    Walter 


WALTER   SCOTT  335 

Scott,  great  grandfather  of  the  novelist,  was  identified 
with  the  cause  of   the    Stuarts,   and    it  was  Walter 
from   him,  perhaps,  that   Sir  Walter  inher-  Scott, 

.       ,,,..•        .1  •      1771-1832. 

ited  that  sentiment  for  the  same  cause  so  evi- 
dent in  his  work.  Scott's  father  was  a  dignified  and 
somewhat  formal  personage.  He  is  portrayed  in  Red- 
gauntlet  in  the  character  of  Alexander  Fairford.  The 
mother  of  the  novelist  was  Anne  Rutherford  Scott, 
daughter  of  a  professor  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 
She  was  well  educated,  a  woman  of  kindly  nature  and 
warm  heart. 

Walter  was  the  ninth  of  twelve  children,  and  although 
unusually  strong  and  athletic  when  a  man,  he   CMia]looa 
was  sickly  as  a  child.     When  two  and  a  half 
years  old,  he  was  taken  to  his  grandfather's  farm  at 
Sandyknowe,  where  he  remained  under  the  special  care 
of  his  grandmother  for  several  years.     One  of  the  old 
servants  on  the  place  afterward  described  him  as  "  a 
sweet-tempered  bairn,    a   darling    with    all  about  the 
house."      Here    the    child    grew    rapidly  strong ;    al- 
though lame,  he  could  clamber  about  with  agility,  and 
even  while  very  young  learned  to  gallop  over  the  coun- 
try on  a  small  Shetland  pony  of  his  own.     Amid  such 
surroundings  Scott's  taste  for  the  ancient  literature  of 
his  native  Scotland  developed  early  and  was  fostered 
by  all  the  circumstances  of  his  environment.     Under 
the  direction  of  his  grandmother,  whose  memory  was 
a  treasure  house  of  the  past,  he  learned  to  read  and  to 
recite  some  of  the  old  border  poems,  of  which  he  grew 
passionately  fond.     On  one  occasion  he  declaimed  the 
ballad  of  Hardicanute  with  such  gusto  that  he  quite 
put  out  the  parish  clergyman,  who  complained  that  he 
"  might  as  well  speak  in  a  cannon's  mouth  as  where 
that  child  was."     The  vivid  imagination    of  the    ro- 
mancer was   manifested    in  the  boy  and   roused    the 


336         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

astonishment  of  his  friends.  A  relative  of  the  familj 
saw  him  when  six  years  old  reading  to  his  mother,  and 
describes  him  thus :  "  He  was  reading  a  poem  to  his 
mother  when  I  went  in.  I  made  him  read  on  ;  it  was 
the  description  of  a  shipwreck.  His  passion  rose  with 
the  storm.  '  There 's  the  mast  gone,'  says  he  ;  '  crash 
it  goes  ;  they  will  all  perish.'  After  his  agitation  he 
turns  to  me.  '  That  is  too  melancholy,'  says  he  ;  'I  had 
better  read  you  something  more  amusing.'  " 

In  1779  the  eight-year-old  lad  came  back  to  Edin- 
burgh and  was  placed  in  the  High  School, 
SchoolDays.      ,*»  j    i  *  *.  *.-  11 

where  he  made  less  ot  a  reputation  as  a  scholar 

than  as  a  teller  of  tales  to  his  comrades  in  the  school. 
The  spirit  of  his  rough-and-ready  ancestry  was  not  want- 
ing in  the  youth  ;  he  was  a  good  fighter  on  occasion  and 
bold  enough  in  all  boyish  adventure.  Although,  as  he 
says,  he  "  glanced  like  a  meteor  from  one  end  of  the  class 
to  the  other,"  meaning  thereby  a  movement  in  the  wrong 
direction,  it  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  he  was  either  a 
dunce  or  an  idler.  With  the  books  that  he  enjoyed  he 
grew  more  than  familiar.  He  absorbed  the  spirit  as 
well  as  the  words  of  the  authors  he  loved.  Some- 
thing of  their  enthusiasm  and  something  of  their  pre- 
judice he  assimilated  also.  Even  as  a  boy  Scott  was 
a  stanch,  unyielding  Tory,  and  took  the  side  of  the 
Cavaliers  as  against  the  Roundheads  from  a  convic- 
tion that  their  creed  was  "  the  more  gentlemanlike  "  of 
the  two.  Such  were  the  characteristics  of  this  preco- 
cious lad ;  it  is  not  difficult  to  see  in  them  the  possi- 
bility and  promise  of  a  Marmion  and  an  Ivanhoe. 

About  1785  or  1786  Scott  entered  his  father's  office 
Profes-         *°  ^dy  lawi  supplementing  his  office  study 
sionai  Oa-     with  courses  in  the  law  school  of  the  Univer- 
sity.   He  worked  on  thus  for  six  or  seven  years, 
with  more  or  less  perseverance,  though  with  no  great 


LITERARY  LABORS  337 

enthusiasm  for  his  profession.  As  occasion  offered,  the 
young  attorney  made  excursions  into  the  Highlands  and 
met  some  of  the  characters  afterward  introduced  in  the 
tales.  He  also  joined  the  yeomanry,  or  militia,  and 
thus  gained  acquaintance  with  military  matters.  In 
1792  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar. 

On  Christmas  eve,  1797,  the  young  advocate  was 
married  to  Miss  Charlotte  Margaret  Carpenter,  or 
Charpentier,  as  the  name  originally  stood,  a  lady  of 
French  parentage,  although  reared  and  educated  in 
England.  Soon  afterward  Scott  was  made  sheriff 
of  Selkirkshire  and  rented  Ashestiel,  a  country  house 
on  the  Tweed.  In  1806  he  assumed  the  duties  of  one 
of  the  Clerks  of  Session,  but  did  not  enjoy  the  salary 
of  this  office,  £1300,  until  1811. 

Scott's  entrance  upon  a  literary  career  began  with 
the  publication  of  some  translations  from  the  Literary 
newer  romantic  poetry  of  Germany.  In  1799  Labors- 
he  published  a  version  of  Goethe's  Goetz  von  Berlich- 
ingen.  In  1800  he  wrote  the  Eve  of  St.  John,  a  bor- 
der ballad,  and  in  1805  appeared  his  first  poem  of  note, 
The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.  This  was  followed 
by  Marmion  in  1808,  The  Lady  of  the  Lake  in  1810, 
The  Vision  of  Don  Roderick  in  1811,  and  Roheby  in 
1813.  But  this  was  not  all :  along  with  other  poems 
of  lesser  note,  Scott  also  did  an  extraordinary  amount 
of  editorial  work  during  this  period,  including  editions, 
with  biographies,  of  Dryden  and  Swift.  His  metrical 
romances,  the  best  of  their  kind  ever  written,  made  their 
author  the  most  popular  writer  of  his  day.  The  his- 
tory of  the  Scottish  borders  was  rich  in  material  suited 
to  the  purpose  of  the  romancer,  and  Scott,  thoroughly 
familiar  with  the  customs  and  traditions  of  his  native 
land,  happily  endowed  with  a  sentiment  and  a  sympa- 
thy for  his  subject,  was  remarkably  well  qualified  to 


338         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

thus  revive  the  spirit  of  the  past.  The  poet  found 
himself  famous  and  wealthy.  In  1811  he  bought  Ab- 
botsford  —  forever  afterward  assoeiated  with  his  name 
—  an  estate  on  the  banks  of  the  Tweed  about  thirty 
miles  from  Edinburgh. 

In  1812  Lord  Byron  published  the  first  two  cantos 
of    Childe    Harold's    Pilar hnaqe,  and    fol- 

The  NovbIs 

lowed  these  in  the  next  year  with  The  Giaour 
and  The  Bride  of  Abydos.  There  was  therefore  now  a 
new  poet  in  the  field.  Hokeby  had  not  proved  so  suc- 
cessful as  the  earlier  poems,  and  after  two  further  ven- 
tures in  The  Bridal  of  Triermain,  1813,  and  The  Lord 
of  the  Isles,  1815,  Scott  quietly  withdrew  from  the  field 
of  verse  and  opened  a  vein  of  imaginative  creation  the 
like  of  which  had  never  before  been  discovered  in  Eng- 
lish literature.  In  1814  appeared  Waverley  ;  or,  'Tis 
Sixty  Years  Since,  a  novel  of  manners  and  adventure 
in  Scotland  during  the  period  indicated  by  the  title. 
This  was  indeed  an  event  in  English  letters,  and  the 
"  author  of  Waverley,"  who  rigorously  concealed  his 
identity,  until  secrecy  finally  became  impossible,  found 
himself  for  a  second  time  the  success  of  the  hour.  Guy 
Manneriny  followed  in  1815,  "  the  work  of  six  weeks 
at  Christmas  time;"  then  came  in  quick  succession 
The  Antiquary,  The  Black  Dwarf,  Old  Mortality,  all 
in  1816,  Hob  Boy,  The  Heart  of  Midlothian,  1817, 
TJie  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  and  The  Legend  of  Mon- 
trose, 1819.  During  this  last  year  the  novelist  suffered 
intensely  with  a  malady  of  the  stomach  which  caused 
an  agony  of  pain,  "  but,"  as  he  wrote  afterward  to  a 
friend  with  reference  to  his  sufferings  at  this  time,  "  I 
have  no  idea  of  these  things  preventing  a  man  from 
doing  what  he  has  a  mind."  When  The  Bride  of  Lam- 
mermoor was  completed,  however,  Soott  declared  that 
he  did  not  recollect  one   single   incident,  character,  or 


LATER  YEARS  339 

conversation  it  contained,  so  severe  and  so  continuous 
had  been  the  pain  which  had  tormented  him  throughout 
its  dictation. 

The  year  1819  marks  a  slight  departure  in  Scott's 
selection  of  subjects.  Hitherto  he  had  con-  Ivanhoe 
fined  himself  to  the  field  of  Scottish  history 
and  Scottish  character,  a  field  where  he  felt  himself 
perfectly  at  home  ;  he  now  tried  an  "  experiment  on  a 
subject  purely  English,"  and  with  gratifying  success. 
Ivanhoe,  if  not  the  greatest,  is  probably  the  most  popu- 
lar of  all  his  works.  As  a  romance  of  chivalry,  pic- 
turesque, brilliant,  absorbing,  vivid  in  its  portrayal  of 
the  jarring  adjustment  of  Norman  and  Saxon,  Ivanhoe 
remains,  in  spite  of  the  criticism  inspired  by  the  melo- 
drama of  its  action,  unsurpassed  by  any  work  of  fiction 
with  which  it  can  be  appropriately  compared.  No  one 
impressed  by  the  scope  of  the  imagination  displayed  in 
its  pages,  the  rapidity  of  its  movement,  or  its  freshness 
of  tone  would  suspect  that  the  author  while  engaged 
upon  its  creation  was  racked  with  physical  pain  ;  yet 
such  was  the  fact,  for  at  the  time  of  its  creation  Scott 
was  still  a  sufferer  from  the  malady  already  referred  to. 
In  1820  Scott  was  made  a  baronet,  the  first  person 
thus  honored  by  George  IV.  after  his  acces-  Later 
sion  to  the  throne.  At  Abbotsford  he  lived  Years- 
the  life  of  a  Scottish  laird,  hospitable,  industrious, 
busying  himself  with  official  duties  and  displaying  a 
capacity  for  work  that  has  hardly  been  equaled.  Along 
with  memoirs,  essays,  and  translations  continued  to 
appear  the  successive  volumes  of  the  Waverley  novels, 
including  Kenilworth,  1821,  The  Pirate,  The  Fortunes 
of  Nigel,  and  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  1822,  Quentin 
Durward,  1823,  St.  Ponan's  Well  and  Redgauntlet, 
1824,  The  Betrothed  and  The  Talisman,  1825,  and 
Woodstock,  1826. 


340         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

This  last  year  was  a  disastrous  one  for  the  Laird. 
In  1805  he  had  become  a  silent  partner  in  the  printing 
and  publishing  firm  of  the  Ballantynes ;  he  was  also 
financially  involved  with  Constable,  the  publisher  of 
the  novels.  There  was  evident  mismanagement  on  all 
sides,  and  in  1826  both  firms  collapsed,  leaving  Sir 
Walter  under  a  load  of  debt  which  he  bore  heroically 
till  his  death.  The  amount  of  the  obligations  assumed 
by  Scott  was  about  ,£130,000.  He  turned  over  to 
trustees  his  property  at  Abbotsford  and  set  bravely  to 
work  to  discharge  the  debt.  He  was  fifty-five  years 
old  and  subject  to  the  attacks  of  a  new  disorder,  which 
struck  at  the  brain  and  eventually  caused  paralysis. 
The  story  of  the  next  few  years  is  full  of  pathos. 
Within  two  years'  time  he  had  earned  nearly  £40,000, 
£18,000  having  come  from  the  sales  of  a  Life  of  Na- 
poleon Bonaparte.  In  February,  1830,  the  novelist 
had  a  stroke  of  paralysis,  but  still  he  struggled  on  at 
his  task.  On  September  23,  1831,  too  late  to  regain 
his  shattered  health,  Scott  left  Abbotsford  for  a  trip 
to  Italy,  seeking  rest.  He  sailed  from  Portsmouth  for 
the  Mediterranean  upon  a  frigate  placed  by  the  Govern- 
ment at  his  disposal,  visited  Malta,  Naples,  and  Rome, 
and  then  began  to  long  for  home.  In  May  the  party 
started  to  return,  traveling  down  the  Rhine  to  Rotter- 
dam, where  the  almost  dying  man  was  placed  on  an 
English  steamboat,  arriving  in  London,  June  13, 1832. 
Here  he  rallied  and,  though  very  weak,  at  his  urgent 
desire  was  brought  home  to  Abbotsford,  recognizing 
familiar  scenes  and  greeting  with  a  cry  of  delight  the 
first  view  of  its  cherished  towers.  Foremost  among  the 
old  friends  eager  to  extend  a  greeting  were  his  favorite 
dogs,  and  Sir  Walter  smiled  or  sobbed  as  they  fawned 
about  him  and  licked  his  hand. 

Scott  lived  two  months  after  his  return.     On  Sep- 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  OF  IVANHOE     341 

tember  17,  in  an  interval  of  consciousness,  he  called  his 
son-in-law  to  the  bedside  and  said  :  "  Lockhart,  I  may 
have  but  a  minute  to  speak  to  you.  My  dear,  be  a 
good  man  —  be  virtuous  —  be  religious  —  be  a  good 
man.  Nothing  else  will  give  you  any  comfort  when 
you  come  to  lie  here."  Four  days  later,  September  21, 
1832,  Sir  Walter  died.  He  was  buried  in  Dry  burgh 
Abbey,  where  for  many  generations  his  ancestors  had 
been  laid.  His  death  was  regarded  as  a  national  loss, 
and  unprecedented  honors  were  paid  to  his  memory. 

The  terrible  task,  under  the  strain  of  which  he  at  last 
succumbed,  was  not  accomplished  during  the  novelist's 
lifetime,  although  by  his  sacrificing  labor  the  debt  was 
reduced  more  than  one  half  in  the  six  years  of  ceaseless 
toil.  The  remainder  of  the  debt  was  more  than  cov- 
ered by  the  royalties  from  his  books,  and  within  a  few 
years  after  his  death  Sir  Walter's  account  was  clear. 

Ivanhoe.     First  of  all,  let  the  fact  be  emphasized  that 

the  novel  or  romance  is  created  primarily  not  to 

be  made  an  object  of  study,  but  to  afford  pleasure   tionsfor 

to  its  reader.     In  some  works  of  fiction  the  pur-  ***  study 

,    .         ,,        .       .,  of  a  Novel, 

pose  to  entertain  is  more  obvious  than  in  others. 

In  Ivanhoe,  as  in  all  of  Scott's  novels,  that  purpose  is  para- 
mount, and  our  first  reading  of  it  should  not  be  so  minutely 
attentive  to  technical  features  that  we  shall  be  robbed  of  our 
entertainment  and  lose  what  was  intended  by  the  author  — 
our  pleasure  in  the  story.  And  yet,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that 
enjoyment  will  naturally  be  intensified  if  at  the  same  time 
we  feel  the  value  of  the  work  as  a  whole  and  note  here  and 
there  the  evidence  of  skillful  construction  and  artistic  effect. 
These  waymarks  of  genius  we  may  be  conscious  of  as  we 
pass,  and  a  more  careful  examination  will  increase  our  ap- 
preciation and  heighten  our  pleasure.  Herein  is  the  jus- 
tification for  subsequent  study  of  the  work,  a  study  which 
should  result  not  only  in  a  more  intense  feeling  of  the 
effects  designed,  but  also  to  a  greater  or  less  degree  in  the 
apprehension  of  how  those  effects  have  been  achieved. 


342  FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

In  the  study  of  any  novel  we  may  begin  by  noting  the 

~,-u  c  u        setting  and   the  situation.     The   first  has  to  do 
The  Setting  ^ 

and  the  with  the  general  environment,  the  characteristics 

Situation.      Qf  ^me  an(i  piace>  t]ie  <Jate  anci  scene  of  action  ; 

the  second  deals  with  the  conditions  which  involve  the  prin- 
cipal persons  in  the  narrative,  and  presents  the  groundwork 
or  starting-point  from  which  the  story  springs.  Either  of 
these  may  be  placed  before  the  reader  first,  or  something  of 
both  may  be  made  to  appear,  the  details  of  each  unfolding 
coincidently.  In  what  we  may  call  the  Introduction  of 
Ivanhoe,  the  principal  points  of  the  setting  are  clearly  and 
briefly  given  in  the  first  five  paragraphs  of  chapter  i.  ;  and 
although,  in  the  paragraphs  following,  some  further  details 
are  added  which  make  more  vivid  the  political  and  social 
order  of  the  kingdom,  it  transpires  that  these  further  facts 
are  given  as  necessary  to  our  knowledge  of  the  situation. 
Thus  Wamba's  discourse  upon  the  meats  reveals  something 
of  the  relative  position  of  Norman  and  Saxon,  together  with 
the  personal  relations  naturally  existing  between  them  ;  and 
this  constitutes  a  most  important  force  in  the  development 
of  the  romance.  The  allusions  to  Cedric  and  Front-de-Bceuf 
are  incidental  to  the  situation,  for  these  persons  are  promi- 
nent in  the  story.  With  the  introduction  of  the  Prior  and 
the  Templar  (chapter  ii.)  our  acquaintance  with  the  situa- 
tion grows ;  the  personal  allusions  to  Cedric,  Rowena,  and 
particularly  the  mention  of  the  son  banished  "  for  lifting  his 
eyes  in  affection  "  toward  the  lady,  are  most  important.  In 
chapter  iii.  the  utterance  of  Cedric  concerning  Wilfred,  and 
the  statement  of  Rowena's  interest  in  news  from  Palestinev 
confirm  the  assertion  of  the  Prior ;  while  the  lady's  champi- 
onship of  Ivanhoe  (chapter  v.),  and  the  description  of  the 
Palmer's  nocturnal  visit  to  Rowena,  make  our  understanding 
of  the  situation  complete.  Lady  Rowena  is  obviously  the 
heroine  of  the  novel ;  between  herself  and  the  absent  Ivan- 
hoe exists  an  attachment  the  progress  of  which  is  hindered 
by  the  hostility  of  the  arbitrary  Thane  who  has  disowned 
his  son.  and  which  is  also  threatened  by  the  hate  of  the 
Knight  Templar,  who  from  the  outset  assumes  the  part  of 


THE   PLOT 


343 


an  evil  element  in  the  story  just  opening.  The  situation 
also  involves  the  peculiar  social  antagonisms  of  Norman  and 
Saxon,  the  pretensions  of  Prince  John,  and  the  cause  of  King 
Richard  ;  while  the  reception  accorded  to  Isaac  of  York,  and 
his  interview  with  the  Palmer,  indicate  that  he  also  has  a 
part  to  play  in  the  romance. 

The  situation  once  made  clear,  we  are  in  a  position  to  fol- 
low with  greater  interest  the  development  of  the      t  „  , 
,    ,  .      ,        ,  ,    •  i  'C     l  •       The  Plot, 

story,  and  this  development  is  made  mamtest  in 

the  working  out  of  what  is  called  the  plot.  This  last  is  no- 
thing more  than  the  thread  of  logical  connection  on  which 
are  strung  the  happenings  that  furnish  the  forces,  the  mo- 
tives, and  the  action  necessary  to  the  growth  of  the  story.  In 
some  novels  the  plot  is  simple  ;  few  characters  are  involved, 
the  motives  are  plain,  a  single  idea  commands  our  interest. 
Here  in  Ivanhoe  a  half  dozen  important  personages  demand 
attention  at  the  start  and  as  many  more  appear  later  as 
secondary  yet  prominent  figures.  Primarily  we  are  inter- 
ested in  the  fortunes  of  Rowena  and  Ivanhoe,  even  when  the 
identity  of  the  latter  is  but  suspected  ;  at  the  same  time  our 
interest  is  aroused  in  other  groups  and  in  the  forces  which 
dominate  them.  Suppose  we  tabulate  the  more  important 
characters  of  Ivanhoe;  they  seem  to  fall  naturally  into  groups 
like  these :  — 


1. 

Ivanhoe 

»nd 
Rowena. 


King 
Richard. 

Rebecca 

and 

Isaac. 


Prince  John, 

Cedric 

Fitzurse, 

and 

and 

Athelstane. 

De  Bracy. 

Robin  Hood 

Front-de-Boeuf 

and 

and 

Friar  Tuck. 

Malvoisin. 

Gurth 

Bois-Guilbert 

and 

and 

Wamba. 

the  Templars. 

That  is  to  say  :   (1)  those  who,  because  of  their  situation. 


$14         FROM   WORDSWORTH  TO   TENNYSON 

directly  or  indirectly  appeal  to  our  sympathy ;  the  actual 
hero  and  heroine,  who  are  contending  with  the  traditional 
difficulties  that  beset  the  path  of  lovers  in  romance ;  the 
chivalrous  king,  vigorously  conspired  against  by  unnatural 
foes  ;  and  the  Jew,  an  object  of  general  persecution  and  con- 
tempt, associated  with  his  daughter  who,  through  her  beauty 
of  person  and  character,  divides  affection  and  honor  with  the 
heroine  herself ;  (2)  the  Saxons,  more  or  less  independent, 
more  or  less  aggrieved  ;  (3)  the  Normans,  conspirators  politi- 
cally and  personally  hostile  to  the  hero. 

Now  if  the  highest  artistic  success  is  to  be  attained,  the 
threads  which  carry  the  fortunes  of  these  individual  groups 
must  be  so  closely  interwoven  that  they  shall  visibly  form 
one  single  strand.  We  must  be  made  aware  that  these  ele- 
ments, hostile  and  congenial,  conciliatory  and  discordant, 
compose  a  society  which  by  their  existence,  and  only  by 
their  existence,  is  complete ;  that  the  tendencies  and  incli- 
nations here  presented  must  inevitably  act  and  react  as 
described,  and  that  though  badly  tangled  at  the  start,  the 
skein  will  prove  to  be  properly  in  order  at  the  end.  Such  is 
the  problem  of  the  plot ;  it  is  for  us  to  discover,  if  we  may, 
by  what  devices  that  result  is  accomplished. 

In  the  first  place,  how  is  the  structural  unity,  perhaps  the 
Unity  ol  most  important  as  it  is  the  most  difficult  essential 
the  Plot.  m  such  a  plo^  to  De  obtained  ?  Chiefly  by  show- 
ing that  the  interests  of  all  the  groups  individually  centre 
in  the  interests  of  one  group,  which  naturally  is  the  impor- 
tant group  of  the  narrative,  —  that  comprising  the  hero  and 
the  heroine  of  the  romance.  Now  let  the  reader  watch  for 
the  links  in  the  narrative  that  bind  these  groups  together, 
and  prove  for  himself  whether  or  not  the  bonds  that  unite 
them  are  natural  and  sufficiently  strong  to  secure  the  unity 
required. 

The  development  of  the  plot  takes   place  in  a  series  of 

scenes.  It  would  be  well  to  make  a  list  of  these 
Scenes.  ,  .  .  ,  , 

scenes  in  order,  together  with  the  chapters  occu- 
pied by  each.  Naturally  the  more  elaborate,  the  more  pic- 
turesque scenes  are  impressed  most  vividly  on  the  mind  ;  and 


SCENES  345 

if  one  were  asked  to  enumerate  the  successive  scenes  of  IvaV' 
hoe,  the  list  would  probably  run  like  this  :  — 

1.  The  Forest  near  Rotherwood. 

2.  The  Hall  and  Mansion  of  Rotherwood. 

3.  The  Lists  at  Ashby. 

4.  The  Hermit's  Hut  of  Copmanhurst. 

5.  The  Castle  of  Torquilstone. 

6.  The  Trysting  Tree. 

7.  Templestowe. 

8.  The  Castle  of  Coningsburgh. 

9.  The  Lists  of  Templestowe. 

Now  while  the  scenes  mentioned  are  indeed  prominent 
ones,  the  list  is  by  no  means  complete.  Several  of  these 
may  be  subdivided.  There  is  really  a  change  of  scene  when, 
though  still  in  the  forest,  Gurth  and  Wamba  are  joined  by 
the  Prior  and  his  companions ;  and  this  new  scene  is  clearly 
marked  by  its  separation  in  chapter  ii.  Similarly,  a  new 
scene  is  created  by  the  entrance  of  Cedric's  guests  recorded 
in  chapter  iv.,  although  the  location  of  the  scene  is  pre- 
cisely that  of  the  former  chapter,  namely,  Cedric's  hall. 
The  same  change  occurs  with  Isaac's  entrance  in  chapter 
v.,  and  the  reader  will  in  each  case  note  the  close  of  the 
preceding  chapter  for  the  announcement  of  the  new  event. 
The  chapter  divisions,  however,  do  not  always  correspond  to 
the  succession  of  scenes.  In  chapter  vi.,  for  example,  we 
have,  first,  the  scene  between  the  Palmer  and  the  cup-bearer ; 
second,  that  in  the  apartment  of  Rowena ;  third,  the  brief 
interview  with  Anwold  ;  fourth,  the  morning  call  on  Isaac  ; 
fifth,  the  rousing  of  Gurth  ;  sixth,  the  journey  toward  Shef- 
field. A  scene,  therefore,  is  a  section  of  the  narrative  which, 
through  the  presence  of  the  characters  introduced,  the  con- 
versation recorded,  or  the  action  described,  is  in  dramatic 
effect  complete. 

The  various  scenes  should  be  classified.  Some  are  of 
value  as  presenting  portraits  of  the  persons  concerned,  some 
contain  the  germ  from  which  subsequent  action  is  to  spring, 
some  are  apparently  designed  for  contrasts  and  relief,  as  the 


346         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

quiet  forest  scene  (chapter  xxxii.),  and  others  for  spec- 
tacular effect.  In  some  scenes  the  action  sets  rapidly  for- 
ward ;  in  others  it  is  almost  stationary.  Occasionally  the 
author  is  compelled  to  go  back  in  his  narrative  in  order  to 
pick  up  some  thread  of  the  action  or  to  explain  a  situation 
which  might  otherwise  be  obscure.  Note  the  symmetrical 
arrangement  of  scenes  running  through  chapters  xxi.-xxxi. 
which  narrate  the  siege  of  Torquilstone. 

An  important  element  in  the  scene  is  the  incident,  or 
event  which  supplies  the  motive  for  the  action  of 
the  scene.  In  these  two  fields,  the  arrangement 
of  scene  and  the  invention  of  incident,  the  story-teller's  power 
is  severely  tested.  Just  as  the  scene  must  contribute  natu- 
rally and  directly  to  the  action  of  the  plot,  so  must  the  inci- 
dents that  enliven  it  occur  spontaneously  and  at  least  cause 
no  digression  from  the  strict  fine  of  plot  construction  —  an 
extravagance  which  the  economy  of  novel-writing  cannot 
permit.  The  incidents  of  any  important  scene  may  be  tabu- 
lated and  examined.  With  regard  to  the  probability  of 
incidents,  it  should  be  stated  that  more  latitude  is  allowed 
the  romancer  than  is  granted  to  the  realistic  novelist.  A 
romance  frankly  assumes  that  things  shall  be  done  in  the 
large.  An  amount  of  hyperbole  in  deeds  as  well  as  in  words 
is  expected ;  the  atmosphere  is  one  of  adventure  and  daring ; 
the  extraordinary  and  marvelous  are  in  order ;  rare  beauty 
and  heroism  are  demanded  ;  the  superlative  prevails.  At 
the  same  time  there  is  a  limit  set  by  good  taste  and  experi- 
ence, and  if  the  story-teller  oversteps  that,  he  will  fall  into 
the  ditch  of  the  mock-heroic  and  the  absurd.  There  are  a 
number  of  incidents  in  Ivanhoe  that  should  be  tested  in  this 
regard ;  the  student  will  have  no  difficulty  in  selecting  them. 
In  the  invention  and  combination  of  incidents  all  degrees 
of  artistic  skill  are  shown.  Let  us  examine,  with  reference 
to  this  point,  the  incidents  set  forth  in  chapters  i.  and  ii. 
We  have,  first,  the  two  thralls  of  Cedric  fraternizing  in  the 
forest,  watching  the  swine.  The  attempt  to  collect  the  scat- 
tered herd  with  the  poor  assistance  of  Fangs  serves  to  bring 
out  several  facts   of   importance   relative  to  Norman  rule, 


CLIMAX  347 

including  Wamba's  discourse  on  the  meats.  The  second 
incident  is  the  approach  of  travelers,  announced  by  the  tram- 
pling of  their  horses.  The  third  is  the  threat  of  coming 
storm.  These  incidents  are  all  preparatory  to  the  scene  in 
the  hall  at  Rotherwood ;  let  the  student  trace  to  the  end  the 
chain  of  incidents  thus  begun.  The  manifest  purpose  of  the 
author  is  to  account  for  the  assembly  of  characters  who  meet 
eventually  in  Cedric's  mansion.  What  is  served  by  these 
preliminary  incidents  ?  Would  it  not  have  been  as  well  to 
raise  the  curtain  on  the  scene  presented  in  chapter  iii.,  or  is 
there  a  propriety  and  order  in  the  arrangement  as  it  stands  ? 
Let  each  one  of  these  incidents  be  studied  in  turn.  What  is 
the  degree  of  probability  in  each  ?  Is  the  logical  connection 
clear  ?  What  is  the  force  of  each  in  shaping  subsequent 
action  ?  Note  particularly  the  usefulness  of  the  storm,  and 
consider  how  much  of  what  occurs  is  directly  attributable  to 
its  agency.  Not  only  should  these  points  be  noted  by  the 
student,  but  he  should  feel  their  comparative  value  in  stimu- 
lating interest  and  in  heightening  suspense.  Sir  Walter 
was  not  always  so  happy  in  his  introductions  as  here,  and  it 
might  be  well  to  compare  these  opening  chapters  with  those 
of  his  first  novel,  Waverley,  to  emphasize  the  point. 

The  incidents  should  be  so  arranged  as  to  permit  no 
dropping  of  interest ;  if  possible,  each  should  be 
more  striking  than  the  one  preceding.  As  the 
story  proceeds  these  climaxes  become  an  important  matter. 
There  is  a  fine  example  of  dramatic  effect  in  climax  in 
chapter  v.  when  the  Palmer  meets  the  imputations  of  the 
Templar  with  the  words  "  Second  to  none  !  "  Study  this 
incident  with  considerable  care  ;  see  how  unexpected  and 
how  forceful  it  is  ;  then  note  how  interest  is  quickened  by 
Rowena's  championship  of  Ivanhoe,  after  which  the  com- 
pany soon  separates  and  the  chapter  ends.  A  similar  study 
should  be  made  of  the  climaxes  in  the  scenes  at  Ashby  and 
at  Templestowe,  both  in  their  immediate  connection  and  in 
their  relation  to  the  final  climax  of  the  novel — the  recon- 
ciliation of  Cedric  and  the  marriage  of  Ivanhoe. 

Finally,  the  characters  demand  our  study.     What  touches 


348         FROM    WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

of  true  nature  do  we  find  —  what  marks  of  unreal  portraiture, 
The  if  any  ?     Words  and  actions  may  be  inconsistent 

Characters.  with  the  nature  and  endowment  of  the  character 
as  conceived  :  do  you  then  find  the  sincere  expression  of 
actual  personality,  or  is  the  characterization  obviously  arti- 
ficial and  unreal  ?  Always  remembering  the  larger  liberty 
of  romance,  what  deeds,  if  any,  seem  incredible  and  likely 
to  detract  from  the  probability  of  the  story  ?  Perhaps  the 
propensities  for  evil  are  exaggerated :  can  parallels  of  the 
more  startling  acts  of  cruelty  be  found  in  fact?  Compare 
these  portraitures  with  history  and  with  similar  attempts  in 
other  fiction.  Study  Shakespeare's  King  John  and  also  his 
Shylock  in  The  Merchant  of  Venice.  Do  you  think  that 
Scott's  characters  show  traces  of  Shakespeare's  influence  ? 
Note  the  author's  skill  in  the  treatment  of  Richard.  Ivan- 
hoe  is  the  hero  of  the  novel,  and  therefore  should  not  be  pre- 
sented as  inferior  to  the  best,  but  neither  should  the  king 
appear  to  less  advantage  than  his  knight.  Do  you  think  it 
more  appropriate  that  the  Jester  should  sound  the  blast  which 
summons  the  outlaws  (chapter  xl.)  than  that  Richard  should  ? 
Is  it  not  an  artistic  touch  therefore  that  permits  Wamba  to 
steal  the  bugle  from  the  king  ?  What  other  incidents  reveal 
the  art  of  the  novelist  in  this  respect  ?  Still  more  delicate  is 
the  relation  between  the  two  women,  Rowena  and  Rebecca. 
What  is  your  impression  concerning  Scott's  treatment  of 
these  two  characters  in  personality,  appearance,  and  influence  ? 
In  the  more  mechanical  handling  of  his  characters  it  is 
important  to  note  the  author's  practice  in  several  particulars. 
How  does  he  get  them  before  us  ?  Are  any  of  the  important 
figures  in  Ivanhoe  brought  directly  on  the  scene  without  pre- 
vious mention  ?  Study  the  careful  preparation  for  Rowena's 
first  appearance  and  note  how  effective  is  the  actual  intro- 
duction. In  what  degree  are  the  characters  self-revealing  ? 
How  far  is  description  necessary  ?  When  descriptive  pas- 
sages of  some  length  do  occur,  is  there  evidence  of  skill  in 
planning  and  placing  them  ?  In  some  cases  disguise  is  evi- 
dent —  there  is  some  degree  of  mystery  involved.  In  such 
instances  how  complete  is  the  disguise  so  far  as  the  reader  is 


BRIEF   BIBLIOGRAPHY  349 

concerned  ?  Is  it  wise  to  attempt  utterly  to  conceal  identity 
in  fiction  ?  May  it  not  add  to  the  interest  in  most  cases  to 
indulge  the  reader  in  a  growing  suspicion  of  the  truth  ?  Note 
the  stages  in  the  identification  of  the  Black  Knight.  How  is 
the  effect  of  climax  heightened  when  the  Knight  reveals 
himself  among  the  outlaws  ? 

Another  interesting  line  of  study  on  the  characters  is 
to  note  the  counter-play  of  influence.  Chapter  xxxiv.  is 
good  material  for  such  examination.  The  working  of  char- 
acter on  character  is  well  brought  out  in  the  scene  between 
Prince  John,  De  Bracy,  and  Fitzurse.  Note  also  the  ruling 
motives  displayed  by  each  person  in  the  story,  for  example, 
in  Bois-Guilbert,  in  Isaac,  in  Cedric,  and  in  Athelstane. 
Now  it  is  easy  enough  to  depict  a  "  ruling  motive,"  but  it  is 
not  so  easy  to  blend  and  harmonize  it  with  the  infinite  variety 
of  tendencies  and  motives  that  enter  into  human  nature  and 
give  to  the  individual  a  complete  and  consistent  personality 
of  his  own.  It  is  neither  caricature  nor  allegory  that  the 
novelist  creates,  but  living  men  and  women.  How  far  in  this 
respect  do  you  think  our  novelist  has  succeeded  ?  In  this 
connection  it  would  be  well  to  compile  a  "  List  of  Characters 
in  Ivanhoe"  to  consider  the  distinctness  and  individuality  of 
portraiture.  Suppose  you  number  the  characters  in  the  next 
novel  you  happen  to  read  and  make  comparisons  in  this 
regard  with  Scott.  When  in  addition  to  the  characters  of 
this  romance  we  take  into  our  count  those  of  equal  merit 
presented  in  his  other  novels,  we  arrive,  perhaps,  at  a  fairer 
estimate  of  the  real  genius  of  this  Wizard  of  the  North  than 
in  any  other  way. 

Such  is  the  line  of  study  suggested  for  the  reader  of  Ivan- 
hoe. A  similar  course  may  be  followed  with  other  novels, 
as  the  student's  interest  may  direct.  A  novel  really  worth 
reading  is  worth  studying.  In  no  other  way  will  its  artistic 
value  be  felt. 

The  Life  of  Seott  by  his  son-in-law,  J.  G.  Lockhart,  is 
the  authoritative  biography.     The  Journal  of  Sir  Brief  Blbll- 
Walter  Scott  covers  the  period  of  his  later  life,   ography. 
The  General  Preface  to  the  edition  of  the  Waverley  Novels 


350         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

(1829)  is  full  of  interesting  autobiography  concerning  his 
youth.  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters 
Series,  by  R.  H.  Hutton,  is  the  best  short  biography.  The 
Life  of  Scott  in  the  Great  Writers  Series,  by  C.  D.  Yonge, 
contains  an  extended  bibliography.  Recollections  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  by  R.  P.  Gillis,  and  Domestic  Manners  and 
Private  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  by  James  Hogg,  are  of 
lighter  character.  Abbotsford,  by  Washington  Irving,  is  a 
pleasant  sketch  of  the  novelist  in  his  home.  Scott  (in 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica),  by  William  Minto,  and  Scott 
(in  Chambers's  Encyclopaedia),  by  Andrew  Lang,  are  author- 
itative and  concise.  Robin  Hood,  by  Ritson,  and  The  Old 
English  Ballads  in  any  standard  collection,  such  as  Percy's 
Reliques,  or  vol.  v.  of  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Ballads, 
will  furnish  interesting  material  on  the  outlaws  of  Sherwood 
Forest.  The  Waverley  Dictionary,  by  May  Rogers,  con- 
tains an  alphabetical  arrangement  of  all  the  characters  in 
the  Waverley  Novels,  with  a  descriptive  analysis  of  each 
character. 


III.    THE    REVOLUTIONARY    POETS  :     BYRON,    SHELLEY. 

Born  in  the  period  of  social  upheaval  which  closed 
the  century,  passing  in  boyhood  through  those 
ence  oi  the  years  of  strife  and  turmoil  which  accompanied 
Tlme-  the  Revolution,  two  great  English  poets,  Byron 

and  Shelley,  appear  at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth 
century  as  the  real  representatives  of  that  epoch  in 
English  verse.  The  older  poets  had  early  lost  the 
glow  of  their  first  enthusiasm  and  had  gradually  settled 
into  the  conservatism  of  established  institutions ;  but 
Byron  and  Shelley  were  thoroughly  inflamed  with  the 
spirit  of  revolt,  a  spirit  which  lent  ardor  to  their  verse 
and  not  infrequently  broke  forth  in  the  experiences 
of  their  strenuous,  troubled  lives. 

George  Gordon,  Lord  Byron,  was  born  in  London 
January  22,  1788.     His  ancestry  was  not  auspicious. 


LORD  BYRON  351 

John,  his  father,  was  a  libertine,  and  went  by  the 
nickname  of  "Mad  Jack."  The  poet's  un-  Lord  Byron, 
cle,  William,  was  known  as  "  the  wicked  1788-1824. 
lord ; "  and  his  grandfather  had  committed  murder. 
Byron's  mother,  Catherine  Gordon,  a  native  of  the 
Highlands,  and  excessively  proud  of  her  descent  from 
James  I.,  was  an  impulsive,  hysterical  woman,  whose 
influence  over  her  young  son  was  anything  but  helpful. 
Her  property  had  been  squandered  by  her  husband, 
who  had  deserted  her  and  was  living  in  France  when 
their  child  was  born.  During  the  poet's  boyhood 
mother  and  son  lived  at  Aberdeen,  until  in  1798  Byron 
came  to  his  inheritance  and  took  possession  of  the 
ancestral  estate  of  Newstead  Abbey  in  Nottingham- 
shire. In  the  following  summer  young  Byron  entered 
a  school  in  London.  His  mother  accompanied  him, 
her  presence  proving  disastrous  to  the  happiness  of 
both.  In  her  moods  of  affection  and  anger  she  was 
equally  unreasoning  and  extravagant.  From  petting 
she  would  fly  into  fits  of  passionate  abuse.  Byron 
was  early  conscious  of  his  mother's  weak  and  irrespon- 
sible character ;  once  when  a  school  fellow  exclaimed 
impatiently,  "  Your  mother  's  a  fool,"  the  boy  replied 
quietly  and  rather  to  his  comrade's  surprise,  "  I  know 
it."  The  effects  of  such  an  ancestry  and  such  influ- 
ences upon  the  moral  development  of  Byron  could  not 
have  been  insignificant. 

The  years  1801-5  were  spent  at  the  famous  public 
school  of  Harrow,  where  the  young  lord  came  Harrowaild 
under  the  wholesome  discipline  of  a  wise  and  Cambridge, 
excellent  master,  whom  he  later  described  as  "  the 
best,  the  kindest  (yet  strict,  too)  friend  I  ever  had." 
Byron  was  not  a  hard  student,  but  he  read  eagerly, 
learned  a  little  German,  and  more  French  ;  Italian  he 
seems   to   have   mastered.     At  Harrow  and  at  Cam- 


352         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

bridge,  whither  he  went  in  1805,  he  was  passionately 
fond  of  athletics,  in  spite  of  the  clubfoot,  in  regard  to 
which  he  was  morbidly  sensitive.  His  handsome,  mel- 
ancholy face,  his  aristocratic,  haughty  spirit,  his  reck- 
less daring,  his  genius,  and  his  dissipation  had  made 
Byron  a  conspicuous  and  not  unattractive  figure  at  the 
University  when,  in  1807,  he  published  his  first  volume 
of  verse,  entitled  Hours  of  Idleness.  There  was  no- 
thing of  particular  promise  in  these  early  poems  faith- 
fully cast  in  the  mould  of  Pope's  heroic  couplets ;  nor 
were  they  of  sufficient  importance,  perhaps,  to  justify 
the  sharp  criticism  of  the  Edinburgh  reviewers,  who 
vigorously  assailed  the  book  on  its  appearance.  The 
point  of  their  criticism  was  fair  enough.  The  young 
poet's  affectation  of  misanthropy  was  especially  dis- 
agreeable. What  was  to  be  thought  of  a  boy  who 
expressed  himself  cynically  in  lines  like  these :  — 

"  Weary  of  love,  of  life,  devoured  with  spleen, 
I  rest,  a  perfect  Timon,  not  nineteen  ;  " 

or  who  offered,  as  an  epitaph  upon  a  favorite  dog, 
this :  — 

"  To  mark  a  friend's  remains  these  stones  arise. 
I  never  knew  but  one,  and  here  he  lies  "  ? 

In  the  spring  of  1809  Byron  took  his  seat  in  the 
English  House  of  Lords.  It  was  a  mere  formality, 
Bards.  necessary  to  the  recognition  of  his  hereditary 

privileges.  Byron's  real  emergence  into  public  life 
came  with  the  appearance  of  his  satirical  poem,  Eng- 
lish  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers,  which  was  published 
a  few  days  after  the  formal  assumption  of  his  ]  arlia- 
mentary  rights.  The  poem  was  at  first  anonymous  ; 
then  a  second  edition  followed  with  the  author's  name. 
In  his  own  words,  the  young  poet  woke  to  find  himself 
famous.  The  attack  upon  Jeffrey  and  Brougham  was 
generally  enjoyed  and  especially  relished  by  those  who 


THE   METRICAL   ROMANCES  353 

had  suffered  from  their  often  brutal  criticism.  Byron 
paid  his  respects  to  his  contemporaries  in  this  satire, 
ridiculing  Scott,  whose  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  had 
appeared  in  1805  and  Marmion  in  1808  ;  Words- 
worth he  characterized  as  "  an  idiot  "  who 

"  Both  by  precept  and  example  shows 
That  prose  is  verse  and  verse  is  only  prose." 

In  June  of  the  same  year  (1809)  Byron  left  Eng- 
land  upon   an   extended   tour  which  lasted 

Tr3.vfils 

about  two  years  and  fed  the  imagination  of 
the  poet  with  romance  and  adventure.  Byron's  travels 
extended  as  far  as  the  Orient ;  the  story  of  the  jour- 
ney is  told  in  the  long  poem,  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrim- 
age, and  some  experiences  furnished  material  for  the 
later  work,  Don  Juan.  In  1811,  at  news  of  his  mo- 
ther's illness,  he  returned  to  England,  but  just  too  late 
to  see  her  alive. 

The  first  two  cantos  of  Lord  Byron's  most  important 
work,  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  appeared  The  Met_ 
in  1812.  In  spite  of  the  faults  and  affecta-  rioai 
tions  which  mar  all  of  his  more  prominent  com- 
positions, this  poem  ranks  among  the  great  productions 
of  English  verse  ;  and  its  place  was  speedily  recognized. 
There  is  wonderful  virility  in  the  poetry  of  Byron  at 
his  best,  an  energy  and  passion  that  are  irresistible ; 
his  verse  is  fluent  and  melodious,  his  descriptive  pas- 
sages vivid  and  brilliant.  The  popular  success  of  these 
cantos  was  repeated  in  the  series  of  briefer  romances 
which  followed.  Within  three  years,  with  astonishing 
rapidity,  he  published  The  Giaour  (pronounced  Jour), 
The  Bride  of  Abydos,  The  Corsair,  Lara,  The  Siege 
of  Corinth,  and  Parisina.  The  extravagance  of 
early  romanticism,  the  romanticism  of  "  Monk  "  Lewis 
and  Mrs.  Radcliffe,  found  an  echo  in  these  melo- 
dramatic tales.     Against  the  dark  background  of  the 


354         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

poet's  cynicism  and  melancholy  was  developed  the 
plot  of  oriental  intrigue  and  lurid  adventure.  There 
was  little  variation  except  the  mere  change  of  scene 
from  harem  to  pirate's  cave  or  outlaw's  camp.  The 
same  dark-browed,  gloomy  hero  appeared  in  all  --and 
enthusiastic  readers  saw  in  that  hero  the  personality 
of  the  poet,  ascribing  the  adventures  and  intrigues  of 
the  poems  to  Byron  himself.  These  romances  were 
immensely  popular ;  14,000  copies  of  Ttie  Corsair  sold 
in  one  day.  The  success  of  TJie  Giaour  determined 
Scott  to  abandon  the  field  of  metrical  romance  and 
led,  indirectly,  to  the  publication  of  Waverley  in  the 
following  year.  The  relations  between  the  two  poets 
had  become  very  friendly.  Byron  apologized  to  Scott 
for  his  attack  in  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers, 
and  each  paid  unselfish  tribute  to  the  genius  of  the 
other. 

In  1815  Byron  married  a  Miss  Milbanke.  The 
union  proved  unhappy,  and  within  a  year  his 
wife  left  him.  All  sorts  of  scandals  were 
reported.  The  public  papers  attacked  him.  A  gen- 
eral spirit  of  hostility  developed  against  the  poet, 
finally  driving  him  out  of  England,  and  pursuing  him 
wherever  he  went. 

With  Byron's  departure  in  1816  a  distinct  epoch 
begins  in  his  career.  The  rest  of  his  life  was 
spent  almost  wholly  in  Italy.  On  his  way 
through  Switzerland  he  gathered  much  material  for  his 
poems,  and  at  Geneva  first  met  Shelley.  He  settled  at 
Venice.  Here  he  wrote  the  third  and  fourth  cantos  of 
Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  including  the  brilliant 
passages  upon  Waterloo,  Napoleon,  and  the  Rhine. 
During  his  residence  in  Italy,  Byron  produced  an  im- 
portant series  of  dramatic  poems,  of  which  Manfred 
(1817)  and  Cain  (1821)  are  the  best.     Upon  the  long 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  355 

satirical  poem  Don  Juan  the  poet  was  occupied  from 
1819  to  1824.  This  last  work  aroused,  not  without 
justice,  a  storm  of  condemnation.  "  In  Don  Juan" 
says  Byron,  "  I  take  a  vicious  and  unprincipled  charac- 
ter and  lead  him  through  those  ranks  of  society  whose 
accomplishments  cover  and  cloak  their  vices,  and  paint 
the  natural  effects."  But  the  poem  is  an  expression  of 
Byron's  revolutionary  sentiments,  which  were  too  radical 
for  that  age,  or  for  this. 

Nothing  in  Byron's  life  so  well  became  him  as  the 
manner  of  his  leaving  it.  His  wonderful  The  0reek 
energy  would  not  permit  him  to  be  a  merely  Revolution, 
passive  observer  amid  movements  and  efforts  with 
which  he  so  strongly  sympathized.  He  had  already 
allied  himself  to  the  Italian  revolutionists  and  was  a 
member  of  the  Carbonari  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Greek 
Revolution  in  1821.  The  fortunes  of  Greece  in  her 
struggle  for  independence  against  the  Turks  interested 
the  poet  profoundly.  He  determined  to  take  a  personal 
part  in  the  revolution,  and  in  July,  1823,  set  forth  from 
Genoa,  taking  £4000  of  his  own  money  to  contribute 
to  the  cause.  He  was  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the 
Greeks  and  appointed  to  lead  a  force  of  Suliotes  in  an 
attack  upon  Lepanto  ;  but  delays  and  difficulties  multi- 
plied, his  health  became  undermined,  and  while  drilling 
his  command  in  the  malarial  region  about  Mesolonghi, 
he  was  attacked  by  fever,  from  the  effects  of  which  he 
died  April  19,  1824. 

The  poetry  of  Lord  Byron  is  in  striking  contrast  to  that 
of  Wordsworth.     The  calm  and  meditative  tone   Sugges. 
of  the  older  poet  is  the  very  antithesis  of  the  ardent   tions  for 
energy  of  the  younger.     The  "  primal  sympathy  "       u  y" 
with  nature  and  man,  the  wholesome  optimistic  philosophy 
of  Wordsworth  is  met  by  the  rebellious  cynicism  and  obtru- 
sive egotism  of  Byron.     His  poetry  is  always  spirited  but 


356         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

never  spiritual.  At  the  same  time  Byron's  vital  vigor  is 
most  impressive ;  his  verse  is  aflame  with  passion. 

"  The  cold  in  clime  are  cold  in  blood, 

Their  love  can  scarce  deserve  the  name  ; 
But  mine  was  like  the  lava  flood 

That  boils  in  ^Etna's  breast  of  flame."  1 

His  worst  faults  are  his  misanthropy,  his  skepticism,  and  his 
frequent  lapses  from  the  heights  of  pure  and  nohle  passion  to 
the  low  levels  of  grossness  and  vice.  At  his  best  Byron 
was  master  of  a  power  which  found  expression  in  passages 
of  stately  eloquence.  He  reestablished  virility  in  English 
verse  and  imparted  a  force  and  freedom  of  movement  which 
enriched  and  enlivened  it  to  a  remarkable  degree.  Scott 
praised  "  the  exquisite  poetry  .  .  .  scattered  through  the 
cantos  of  Don  Juan,  amid  verses  which  the  author  seems 
to  have  thrown  from  him  with  an  effort  as  spontaneous  as 
that  of  a  tree  resigning  its  leaves."  "  All  styles  appear  dull 
and  all  souls  sluggish  beside  his,"  says  Taine.  If  Byron's 
verse  aroused  the  hostile  opposition  of  conservative  critics, 
it  aroused  as  fierce  a  partisanship  among  his  revolutionary 
sympathizers.  Lord  Byron  was  the  idol  of  thousands  whose 
ideas  were  as  radical  as  his.  There  grew  to  be  a  Byronic 
cult,  and  the  influence  of  his  poetry  upon  thought  and  style 
was  felt  throughout  Europe  for  a  generation. 

For  the  direct  study  of  Byron's  poetry,  the  volume  of 
Selections  edited  by  F.  I.  Carpenter  (Holt)  is  especially 
recommended.  Particular  attention  is  directed  to  the  third 
canto  of  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  where  excellent  exam- 
ples may  be  found  of  Byron's  superb  power  in  description. 
Notice  how  frequently  the  subjective  element  intrudes ; 
study  the  tone  and  spirit  of  these  suggestive  comments. 
Compare  stanzas  70-75  of  this  third  canto  with  Words- 
worth's utterances  in  Tintern  A  bbey  and  The  Intimations  of 
Immortality.  What  other  illustrations  of  Byron's  cynicism 
do  you  find  elsewhere  ?  Note  carefully  the  diction  of  these 
poems  ;  indicate  passages  which  illustrate  the  spontaneity 
and  freedom   of  the  verse.     Read  the  lyrics   contained  in 

1  The  Giaour. 


PERCY   BYSSHE  SHELLEY  357 

Carpenter's  volume,  especially  The  Isles  of  Greece,  Maid  of 
Athens,  She  Walks  in  Beauty,  The  Destruction  of  Sennach- 
erib, and  On  this  Day  I  Complete  my  Thirty-Sixth  Year. 
The  dramatic  poem  Manfred  should  he  read  entire.  Try  to 
recognize  those  elements  in  Byron's  poetry  which  were  new 
to  English  verse.  Do  you  find  anywhere  indications  of  the 
influence  of  Pope,  whose  principles  of  art  Byron  theoreti- 
cally  approved  ? 

Upon  the  life  of  this  poet,  read  John  Nichol's  Byron,  in 
the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series,  or  the  Life,  Brief  Blbll- 
by  Roden  Noel,  in  the  Great  Writers  Series.  For  ogiaphy. 
criticism,  refer  to  Matthew  Arnold's  Byron  in  his  Essays  in 
Criticism,  2d  ser.,  the  study  of  Byron  by  J.  A.  Symonds  in 
Ward's  English  Poets,  John  Morley's  essay  in  his  Miscella- 
nies^ and  the  essay  on  the  poet  in  W.  E.  Henley's  Views  and 
Revieivs  (Scribners).  There  are  well-known  essays  upon 
Byron  by  Scott,  Macaulay,  Jeffrey,  and  Hazlitt ;  sketches 
and  criticism  without  limit  may  be  found  in  the  works  of 
those  who  have  written  upon  English  literature. 

Like  Byron,  Shelley  came  of  aristocratic  lineage. 
His  father,  Sir  Timothy,  was  the  eldest  son  Percy 
of  Bysshe  Shelley  of  Goring  Castle :  one  fheiiey, 
branch  of  the  family  traced  its  descent  from  1792-1822. 
Sir  Philip  Sidney  ;  another,  to  which  the  poet  belonged, 
was  connected  with  the  Sackvilles.1  Percy  Bysshe 
Shelley  was  born  at  Field  Place,  in  Sussex.  As  a 
child,  his  imaginative  faculty  was  remarkable.  He 
peopled  the  neighborhood  with  the  creations  of  his 
romantic  fancy.  A  dragon  was  located  in  a  near-by 
wood ;  his  sisters  were  terrified  by  his  youthful  tales 
of  a  headless  spectre  that  haunted  the  vicinity,  and  of 
a  gigantic  tortoise  which  inhabited  Warnham  Pond. 
His  imagination  was  evidently  of  a  finer  type  than  that 
which  spends  itself  in  the  creations  of  childish  buga- 

1  It  was  Thomas  Sackville,  Earl  of  Dorset,  who  was  part  author  of 
Gorboduc,  the  first  English  tragedy.     See  page  116. 


358         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO    TENNYSON 

boos :  in  the  Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty  he  alludes 
to  the  experience  of  his  boyhood  thus  :  — 

"  While  yet  a  boy,  I  sought  for  ghosts,  and  sped 
Thro'  many  a  listening  chamber,  cave  and  ruin, 
And  starlight  wood,  virh  fearful  steps  pursuing 
Hopes  of  high  talk  with  the  departed  dead." 

At  twelve  Shelley  was  sent  to  Eton.  His  experi 
ences  were  similar  to  those  of  Cowper.  Deli- 
'  cate  and  refined  in  his  tastes,  by  disposition 
shy,  almost  a  recluse,  he  represented  a  very  different 
type  of  youth  from  that  exhibited  in  young  Lord 
Byron.  The  environment  of  the  big  public  school, 
with  its  500  pupils,  its  fagging  system  —  especially 
severe  to  a  boy  of  Shelley's  sensitive  temperament  — 
and  the  numberless  petty  persecutions  incident  to  these 
conditions,  was  one  of  oppression  and  torture  to 
Shelley.  He  stood  apart  from  the  rest,  almost  a  soli- 
tary. He  was  nicknamed  "  Mad  Shelley."  As  he 
came  from  his  studies  he  was  often  set  upon  by  a  mob 
of  his  school  fellows,  rushing  upon  their  victim  with 
shouts  and  jeers,  snatching  and  scattering  his  books, 
and  chasing  him  with  yells  through  the  streets.  By 
no  means  deficient  in  physical  courage,  Shelley  was 
capable  of  standing  his  ground  on  equal  terms.  We 
are  told  that  his  eyes  would  flash  like  a  tiger's ;  his 
cheeks  grow  pale  as  death ;  his  limbs  quiver  with  pas- 
sion. Sometimes  he  stood  at  bay,  and  once,  when 
harassed  beyond  endurance  at  meal  time,  suddenly 
seized  a  fork  and  pinned  the  hand  of  his  tormentor 
to  the  table. 

At  nineteen  Shelley  went  to  Oxford,  where  his  career 

was  unfortunately  brief.     He  read  eagerly  the 

Oxford.         works    of  the    French  essayists  and  became 

more  and  more  radical  in  his  views.     The  oppression 

of  custom    and  conventionality  made   him   rebellious. 


IMPORTANT  POEMS  359 

He  was  as  sincere  as  he  seemed  to  be  unpractical  and 
quixotic  in  his  rash  idealism.  "  Thoughts  of  great 
deeds"  were  stirring  in  his  soul.  Not  yet  twenty,  his 
feverish  spirit  roused  like  a  champion  against  what  he 
conceived  to  be  the  tyranny  of  the  world.1  He  pub- 
lished a  little  tract  upon  The  Necessity  of  Atheism 
and  was  expelled  from  the  University. 

In  August  of  that  same  year,  1811,  Shelley  married 
Harriet  Westbrooke,  a  pretty,  amiable  girl 
of  sixteen,  the  daughter  of  a  retired  inn- 
keeper in  London.  With  a  scanty  income,  this  youth- 
ful and  not  happily  mated  pair  lived  for  three  years  a 
somewhat  migratory  life.  During  a  short  residence 
at  Keswick,  Shelley  made  the  acquaintance  of  Southey, 
whose  poetry  he  at  that  time  greatly  admired.  In  the 
spring  of  1812  the  young  couple  were  in  Ireland.  The 
cause  of  Catholic  emancipation  enlisted  the  poet's 
sympathy.  He  issued  an  Address  to  the  Irish  People 
and  spoke  at  a  public  meeting  which  was  addressed  by 
the  agitator  Daniel  O'Connell.  Failing  to  arouse 
much  response  by  his  efforts,  he  returned  to  England 
and  began  the  serious  work  of  literature. 

Shelley's  first  long  poem,  Queen  Mab,  was  composed 
at  least  a  year  before  its  publication  in  1813.  ^p^ant 
The  queen  of  the  fairies  is  represented  as  Poems, 
conveying  the  earth  spirit,  the  sleeping  Ianthe,  to  her 
realm  in  space,  and  disclosing  a  vision  of  the  world, 
past,  present,  and  to  come.  Tyranny,  war,  superstition, 
and  bigotry  are  painted  in  crude  but  vigorous  colors. 
The  poet's  early  atheism  is  echoed  in  the  utterance 
"  There  is  no  God  ! "  but  a  note,  subjoined  by  the 
author,  declares  that 

"  This  negation  must  be  understood  solely  to  affect  a  cre- 
ative Deity.  The  hypothesis  of  a  pervading  spirit,  coeternal 
with  the  universe,  remains  unshaken." 

1  Read  stanzas  iii.-v.  from  the  Prelude  to  The  Revolt  of  Islam. 


360         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

Realizing  the  imperfections  of  his  work,  Shelley 
allowed  this  poem  to  be  printed  for  private  circulation 
only.  In  1815,  on  the  borders  of  Windsor  Park,  he 
composed  his  next  important  poem,  Alastor,  or  the 
Spirit  of  Solitude.  In  this  composition,  which  is  ro- 
mantic rather  than  disputative,  the  wonderful  imagina- 
tion of  the  poet  gathers  force  ;  the  emotion  is  more 
restrained.  There  is  a  touch  of  Wordsworth's  calmer 
spirit  in  passages  like  this  :  — 

"  I  wait  thy  breath,  Great  Parent,  that  my  strain 
May  modulate  with  murmurs  of  the  air, 
And  motions  of  the  forests  and  the  sea, 
And  voice  of  living'  being's,  and  woven  hymns 
Of  night  and  day,  and  the  deep  heart  of  man." 

The  same  qualities  are  found  in  The  Revolt  of  Islam, 
written  at  Marlow,  and  published  in  1817.  The  hero 
of  the  poem,  Laon,  appears  as  a  youth  nourished  in 
dreams  of  liberty  and  desirous  to  confer  its  benefits 
upon  humanity.  The  heroine,  Laone,  is  filled  with  the 
same  enthusiasm.  Together  they  struggle  passionately 
for  this  conclusion,  and  although  unsuccessful,  they  die 
unvanquished.  The  tone  of  the  poem  is  entirely  opti- 
mistic. "  Love  is  celebrated  everywhere  as  the  sole 
law  which  should  govern  the  moral  world."  1 

A  formal  separation  between  Shelley  and  his  wife  had 
taken  place  in  1814,  and  the  poet  had  formed 
a  new  union  with  Mary  Godwin,  the  daugh- 
ter of  William  Godwin,  an  advocate  of  revolutionary 
ideas  and  a  leader  whose  theories  were  shared  by  many 
young  enthusiasts.  After  the  tragic  death  of  Harriet, 
by  suicide  in  1816,  Shelley  had  made  Miss  Godwin  his 
legal  wife.  In  1818  they  left  England  —  the  poet 
never  to  return.  Bitter  opposition  to  his  views,  together 
with  personal  hostility  and  criticism  of  his  private  life, 

1  Preface  to  The  Revolt  of  Islam. 


THE   POET'S   DEATH  361 

made  it  impossible  for  him  to  remain  longer  in  the 
kingdom.  After  living  during  brief  intervals  in  vari- 
ous Italian  cities,  including  Genoa,  Milan,  Venice, 
Florence,  and  Rome,  the  Shelleys  settled  permanently 
in  Pisa,  late  in  1819.  Some  of  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  lyrics  were  written  at  this  time.  The  Lines  on  the 
Euganean  Hills,  the  Lines  Written  in  Dejection,  the 
Ode  to  the  West  Wind,  were  products  of  this  period. 
In  November,  1819,  he  completed  his  masterpiece,  the 
great  world  poem,  Prometheus  Unbound,  and  at  once 
began  upon  his  sombre  but  impressive  drama,  The 
Cenci.  The  Witch  of  Atlas,  The  Sensitive  Plant,  The 
/Skylark,  and  Epipsychidion  were  written  in  1820. 
A  notable  prose  work,  a  Defence  of  Poetry,  was  com- 
posed in  the  following  year.  The  death  of  Keats  in 
1821  inspired  Shelley's  Adonais,  one  of  the  great 
elegies  in  literature.1  In  these  compositions  we  find  a 
rapidly  maturing  power  of  the  imagination  and  a  lyrical 
quality  unsurpassed  by  that  of  any  English  poet.  The 
spirit  of  the  poetry  is  fervid  and  intense,  but  it  is  held 
in  restraint,  and  expresses  itself  with  more  wisdom  and 
sounder  judgment  than  in  the  period  of  Queen  Mab. 
The  poet  had  learned  much  in  the  school  of  life  ;  he 
had,  it  seems  to  us,  now  but  just  begun  to  comprehend 
himself  and  the  real  relations  of  things  when  the  end 
came ;  his  career  was  broken  off  and  his  work  left  in- 
complete by  his  untimely  death. 

In  the  spring  of  1822  the  Shelleys  removed  from 
Pisa  to  make  their  residence  near  Spezzia,  t^  poet's 
upon  the  coast.  Byron  had  already  settled  Death, 
in  Pisa,  and  Leigh  Hunt,  the  poet,  intimately  associated 
with  both  Byron  and  Shelley  in  a  scheme  for  the  pub- 
lication of  a  paper  in  the  interests  of  reform,  was 
invited  from  London  to  join  his  friends  in  Italy.    When 

1  See  page  196. 


362         PROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Hunt  arrived  in  Pisa,  Shelley  hastened  to  meet  him. 
Returning,  he  set  sail  from  Leghorn,  July  8,  1822,  in 
his  yacht,  the  Ariel,  together  with  an  English  friend 
and  neighbor,  a  Mr.  Williams.  A  sudden  squall  struck 
the  little  craft  half-way  to  Spezzia,  and  all  on  board 
were  drowned. 

Ten  days  later  the  bodies  were  washed  ashore. 
They  were  at  first  buried  in  the  sand  ;  but  on  the 
eleventh  of  August,  in  the  presence  of  Byron,  Hunt, 
and  a  common  friend,  Trelawney,1  Shelley's  body  was 
exhumed  and  burned  upon  a  pyre.  In  accord  with 
the  ancient  pagan  rites,  wine,  oil,  and  salt  were  thrown 
upon  the  flame ;  a  volume  of  Keats,  found  upon  the 
person  of  the  poet,  was  also  cast  upon  the  pyre.  The 
heart  of  Shelley,  strangely  unconsumed,  was  taken 
from  amid  the  ashes,  which  were  gathered  and  after- 
ward deposited  by  the  grave  of  Keats  in  the  English 
burying-ground  at  Rome. 

In  judging  of  Shelley's  place  among  the  poets,  it  will  be 
_  natural  to  compare  his  work  with  that  of  Byron 

tions  for  and  Wordsworth.  While  in  many  points  Shelley 
Study.  an(j  j$yron  sympathized,  it  will  be  found  that  in 

personality  and  character  they  were  extremely  unlike.  The 
spirit  of  revolt  speaks  in  both  ;  they  are  alike  rebellious  and 
defiant;  but  Shelley's  motives  are  far  nobler,  his  instincts 
and  passions  far  purer  than  Byron's.  There  was  no  cyni- 
cism, no  malignancy  in  Shelley's  heart.  Sympathetic,  ten- 
der, self-forgetful,  philanthropic,  he  was  in  many  ways  the 
antithesis  of  Byron.  Adoring  beauty  in  all  its  forms,  he 
was  never  sensual ;  on  the  contrary  his  tastes  were  delicate 

1  This  gentleman,  Edward  J.  Trelawney,  lived  a  most  romantic  life 
of  adventurous  enterprise.  It  was  he  who  took  the  chief  part  in  the 
burning-  of  Shelley's  body.  The  year  following'  he  accompanied  Byron 
into  Greece  and  remained  among1  the  revolutionists  after  that  poet's 
death.  He  wrote  a  notable  volume,  Recollections  of  the  Last  Days  of 
Byron  and  Shelley.  Upon  his  death  in  England  (1881)  his  own  body 
was  cremated  and  his  ashes  placed  by  the  side  of  Shelley's  at  Rome. 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  363 

and  refined  to  a  superlative  degree.  The  Hymn  to  Intel- 
lectual Beauty  is  expressive  of  his  passion,  and  should  be 
studied  for  an  interpretation  of  that  ideal  which  filled  his 
thought.  The  tone  of  sadness  in  Shelley's  poetry  is  very 
striking :  whence  does  it  proceed  —  is  its  expression  depress- 
ing or  misanthropic  —  is  it  Byronic  ?  Find  in  the  beautiful 
poem  To  a  Skylark  stanzas  expressive  of  this  melancholy  ; 
look  elsewhere  for  similar  expressions. 

Compared  with  Wordsworth  we  find  that,  like  Byron, 
Shelley  lacked  the  quiet  calm  of  a  philosophic  mind  ;  he  did 
not  possess  the  judicial  quality,  the  impartiality,  the  balance 
of  settled  wisdom ;  impulsive,  impetuous,  he  necessarily 
lacked  the  intuition,  the  faith  of  the  elder  poet.  But  Shelley 
far  surpassed  Wordsworth,  and  Byron  too,  in  imagination 
and  ideality.  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  possibly  Spenser, 
are  the  only  poets  who  have  equaled  him  in  this  wonder- 
ful power.  There  seem  no  limits  to  his  creative  ability. 
In  the  Prometheus  Unbound  this  power  is  at  its  highest. 
Yet  it  is  the  lyrical  facidty  which  is  always  paramount  in 
his  verse.  To  a  Skylark  and  The  Cloud,  The  Ode  to  the 
West  Wind,  The  Sensitive  Plant,  and  Adonais,  together 
with  the  remarkable  "  songs  "  in  Prometheus  Unbound,  are 
familiar  illustrations. 

The  Prometheus  Unbound  will  call  for  serious  study.  It 
is  one  of  the  world's  great  poems,  and,  in  spite  of  its  ab- 
struse and  subtle  allegory,  is  not  beyond  the  appreciation  of 
any  intelligent  student  who  has  the  literary  taste.  The 
drama  has  been  edited  for  school  use  by  Vida  D.  Scudder 
(Heath).  The  introduction  and  notes  of  this  edition  will  be 
found  helpful.  Shelley's  Preface  to  the  poem  should  be 
read  for  its  expression  of  his  purpose  and  plan ;  incidentally, 
also,  as  an  example  of  the  poet's  choice  style  in  prose.  How 
does  the  character  of  Prometheus  fit  the  scheme  of  the 
poem  ?  What  features  of  the  myth  make  this  story  espe- 
cially appropriate  for  its  purpose  ?  In  Shelley's  construction 
of  the  drama  what  models  are  followed  ?  How  are  the  char- 
acters of  Prometheus,  Asia,  lone,  and  Panthea  to  be  inter- 
preted allegorically  ?     What  is  served  by  the  repetition  of 


364         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

the  curse  in  the  beginning  of  Act  I  ?  Why  is  such  promi- 
nence given  to  the  fact  that  Prometheus  feels  pity  for  his  op- 
pressor ?  What  is  the  relation  of  this  expression  of  pity  to  the 
subsequent  release  of  the  Titan  ?  What  is  the  real  occasion 
of  Jupiter's  downfall  ?  Note  the  dramatic  power  of  the  first 
act ;  indicate  some  passages  of  special  force.  How  many  of 
the  characters  are  introduced  as  spirits,  or  voices  ?  The 
lyric  passages  are  particularly  beautiful.  The  song  of  tho 
Fourth  Spirit,  "On  a  poet's  lips  I  slept"  (Act  I.,  line  738), 
is  worthy  of  special  attention.  If  the  student  becomes  lost 
amid  the  multitude  of  complex  and  shadowy  creations  of  the 
remaining  acts,  let  him  at  least  consider  the  effect  in  lyrical 
passages  like  the  "  Follow,  follow  "  song  (Act  II.,  lines  166- 
206),  the  demichorus  of  spirits  (scene  ii.),the  song  of  spirit? 
(scene  iii.),  "  My  coursers  are  fed  with  the  lightning " 
(Act  II.,  lines  566-582),  the  "Life  of  life!"  and  Asia's 
song  (Act  II.,  lines  625-687).  What  a  wealth  of  melodious 
verse  is  here  !  Richness  of  fancy  and  an  extraordinary 
command  of  language  are  everywhere  evident. 

This  great  drama  is  the  highest  expression  of  the  revolu- 
tionary spirit  in  our  literature.  Its  strength  is  the  strength 
of  that  movement ;  its  defects  are  the  result  of  the  crude 
and  incomplete  reasonings  of  its  philosophy.  The  spirit  of 
the  poem  is  that  of  love  and  hope.  Freedom  is  the  goal  of 
the  race  ;  and  although  the  poem  describes  but  a  partial 
triumph,  it  closes  with  the  sunrise,  —  the  dawn  of  the  new 
day  when  Love  springs 

"  from  its  awful  throne  of  patient  power 
In  the  wise  heart,  .  .  . 
And  folds  over  the  world  its  healing  wings." 

The  Poetical  Works  of  Shelley  (8  vols.)  edited  by  Harry 
Brief  B1M1-  Kuxton  Forman  is  the  authoritative  edition  of 
ogTaphy.  the  poet.  The  Cambridge  Shelley,  edited  by 
G.  E.  Woodberry,  contains  the  complete  poetical  works  in  one 
volume  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company),  as  does  the  Globe 
Edition  (Macmillan),  edited  by  E.  Dowden.  The  Life 
of  Shelley  (2  vols.)  by  Edward  Dowden  is  the  standard 
biography.      J.  A.  Symonds  is  author  of  the  Shelley  in  the 


JOHN   KEATS  365 

English  Men  of  Letters  Series.  The  Life  in  the  Great 
Writers  Series  is  hy  William  Sharp.  There  are  essays 
upon  Shelley  by  Matthew  Arnold  in  Essays  in  Criticism, 
by  David  Masson  in  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  and  Keats,  by 
J.  Forster  in  Great  Teachers,  and  by  G.  E.  Woodberry 
in  Makers  of  Literature. 

John  Keats,  the  young  English  poet  of  wonderful 
promise,  whose  pathetic  death  at  the  early  johllKeats 
age  of  twenty-five  inspired  Shelley  to  write  1796-1821. 
Adonais,  is  usually  mentioned  in  connection  with  that 
poet ;  but  the  resemblance  is  accidental,  and  even  the 
relations  of  personal  friendship  between  the  two  were 
slight.  Their  common  bond  was  the  passionate  love 
of  beauty  in  both.  There  was  nothing  of  the  revolu- 
tionist in  Keats  ;  while  Shelley  and  Byron,  out  of  sorts 
with  the  present,  were  looking  with  longing  to  the 
future,  Keats  was  fascinated  by  visions  of  the  past. 

"  Lo  !  I  must  tell  a  tale  of  chivalry  ; 
For  large  white  plumes  are  dancing  in  mine  eye."  * 

It  was  a  volume  of  Spenser  that  discovered  the  young 
poet  to  himself  at  sixteen  years  of  age.  When  Hls  Inspl_ 
Charles  Cowden  Clarke  2  introduced  the  sur-  ration, 
geon's  apprentice  of  Edmonton  to  the  glowing  pages 
of  The  Faerie  Queene,  a  new  poet  of  pure  romance 
was  born  into  the  world  of  literature.  The  parentage 
of  this  poet  was  humble.  His  father  was  employed  in 
a  livery  stable  in  London,  had  married  his  employer's 
daughter,  and  inherited  the  business.  His  son's  educa- 
tion was  gained  in  a  private  school  at  Enfield,  kept  by 
the  Reverend  John  Clarke,  whose  son,  already  referred 
to,  became  the  poet's  intimate  and  very  helpful  friend. 

1  Specimen  of  an  Induction  to  a  Poem. 

2  Charles  Cowden  Clarke  (1787-1877)  enjoyed  the  friendship  of 
many  distinguished  men.  He  was  a  noted  Shakespearian  student  and 
the  author  of  the  entertaining  Recollections  of  Writers  (1878). 


36C         FROM   WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

Keats  was  known  at  school  as  a  rather  lively,  pugna- 
cious boy,  fond  of  sports  and  of  reading.  He  studied 
Latin  and  translated  the  JEneid.  Greek  he  never 
learned,  but  became  well  acquainted  with  the  classic 
mythology.  At  fifteen  he  was  taken  out  of  school,  both 
parents  having  died,  and  apprenticed  for  five  years  to 
a  London  surgeon,  although  he  did  not  complete  the 
term.  He  entered  the  hospitals  and  was  ready  to  begin 
his  practice  when  the  allurements  of  literature  proved 
too  strong  to  be  resisted,  and  he  definitely  determined 
to  devote  his  life  to  poetry.  Through  the  interest  of 
Clarke,  Keats  began  to  read  Chaucer,  and  also  Chap- 
man's Translation  of  Homer,  an  event  which  he  re- 
corded in  his  famous  sonnet,  On  First  Looking  into 
Chapman's  Homer,  —  one  of  the  finest  sonnets  in  the 
language.  He  became  acquainted  with  Charles  Lamb, 
Hazlitt,  Leigh  Hunt,  Wordsworth,  and,  later,  with 
Shelley.  Hunt  was  his  literary  adviser  and  published 
some  of  Keats's  poems  in  his  paper  The  Examiner. 
Hunt's  radical  ideas  and  his  hostility  to  the  Govern- 
ment undoubtedly  prejudiced  popular  feeling  against 
the  poet,  and  may  account  in  part  for  the  severity  of 
the  unjust  criticism  which  greeted  the  poet's  appear- 
ance. 

In  1817  Keats  published  his  first  volume  of  verse. 

The  following;  year  brought  forth  Endymion, 
The  Poems. 

his  longest  poem,  "  the  stretched  metre  of  an 

antique  song ; "  inscribed  to  the  memory  of  Thomas 
Chatterton.  The  beauties  of  this  ambitious  work 
might  have  disarmed  criticism  of  its  manifest  faults, 
especially  in  view  of  the  statements  in  the  very  modest 
preface  to  the  poem  ;  but  the  critics  in  the  great  re- 
views assailed  the  author  with  exceptional  bitterness. 
Lockhart,  the  son-in-law  of  Scott,  in  a  trenchant  article 
in  Blackwood's,  wrote :  — 


THE   POEMS  367 

"  It  is  a  better  and  a  wiser  thing  to  be  a  starved  apothe- 
cary than  a  starved  poet,  so  back  to  the  shop,  Mr.  John,  back 
to  plasters,  pills  and  ointment-boxes." 

To  these  abusive  personalities  Keats  replied  in  man- 
ful fashion,  declaring-  that  his  own  criticism  of  his  work 
had  given  him  pain  without  comparison  beyond  what 
Blackwood' s  or  the  Quarterly  could  inflict ;  but  the 
indignation  of  his  friends  was  beyond  bounds.  They 
asserted  that  the  poet's  failing  health  was  aggravated 
and  death  hastened  by  the  virulence  of  these  attacks, 
and  this  opinion  prevailed  for  many  years.  The  charge, 
however,  was  untrue ;  the  poet  was  already  suffering 
from  the  disease  consumption,  which  ended  fatally  three 
years  later. 

In  1820  appeared  the  third  volume  of  this  poet's 
works  ;  it  included  Lamia,  Isabella,  Hyperion,  The  Eve 
of  St.  Agnes,  and  the  four  exquisite  odes,  To  a  Night- 
ingale, On  a  Grecian  Urn,  To  Psyche,  and  On  Mel- 
ancholy.    The  genius  of  Keats  had  begun  to  mature. 

"  0  for  ten  years,  that  I  may  overwhelm 
Myself  in  Poesy  !  so  I  may  do  the  deed 
That  my  own  soul  has  to  itself  decreed,"  x 

he  had  cried  passionately  two  years  before  ;  and  now 
his  career  was  closing,  as  he  thought,  with  the  deed 
still  left  undone.  The  last  year  of  his  life  was  a  bitter 
struggle  with  death.  In  September,  1820,  he  went  to 
Rome,  hoping  to  gain  some  benefit  from  the  Italian 
climate.  But  on  the  twenty-third  of  February  follow- 
ing, the  end  came ;  the  body  of  Keats  was  placed  in  the 
Euglish  cemetery,  and  upon  the  stone  erected  to  mark 
the  spot  was  engraved  the  epitaph  which  the  poet,  in 
bitterness  of  spirit,  had  desired  :  — 

"  Here  lies  one  whose  name  was  writ  in  water." 
1  Sleep  and  Poetry. 


368         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

The  Burden  The  quest  of  Beauty  was  the  passion  of 
ol  Keats.        Keatg> 

"  I  did  wed 
Myself  to  things  of  light  from  infancy  " 

he  exclaims  in  Endymion,  which  begins  with  that 
familiar  line, 

"  A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever." 

His  spirit  is  pagan  in  the  expression  of  its  ideal :  — 

"  Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beauty  —  that  is  all 
Ye  know  on  earth,  and  all  ye  need  to  know."  1 

In  this  worship  of  beauty  in  the  abstract  he  and 
Shelley  were  at  one ;  and  this  is  the  single  point  of 
union  between  the  two.  The  lavish  luxuriance  of 
Keats's  earlier  work  had  given  place  in  the  later  poems 
to  a  more  discreet  and  careful  use  of  his  resources  ;  he 
had  attained  a  marvelous  perfection  of  form.  Had  he 
lived  he  would  have  accomplished  great  things  in  Eng- 
lish poetry.  But  in  the  weakness  and  dejection  of  the 
last  dark  days,  he  was  mistaken.  His  name  was  not 
writ  in  water.  No  English  poet  has  a  more  tender  hold 
upon  the  memory  than  John  Keats.  Scarcely  any 
other  has  had  so  deep  and  continuous  an  influence  upon 
the  poetry  of  those  coming  after.2 

Two  minor  poets,  Moore  and  Hunt,  whose  names  are 
Thomas  frequently  mentioned  in  connection  with  By- 
Moore,  ron  ancl  Shelley,  were  prominently  identified 
Leigh  Hunt,  with  the  revolutionary  group.  Tom  Moore, 
1784-1859.  0ftenest  remembered  as  the  author  of  Irish 
Melodies  (1807)  and  the  oriental  romance  of  Lalla 
Roohh  (1817),  was  born  in  Dublin  and  educated  at 
Trinity  College.  He  became  a  law  student  in  London, 
won  the  friendship  of  Byron,  and  was  made  the  liter- 

1   Ode  on  a  Grecian  Urn. 

-  The  volume  of  selected  poems  edited,  with  Introduction  and  Notes, 
by  Arlo  Bates  (Ginn)  is  especially  recommended. 


ROMANTICISM   IN   ENGLISH   PROSE  369 

ary  executor  of  that  poet.  His  Life  of  Byron  was 
long  the  standard  biography.  What  Burns  did  for 
Scotland,  Moore  tried  to  do  for  Ireland  ;  but  his  songs 
are  less  natural  than  those  of  the  Scotch  ploughman, 
and  his  other  poetry,  polished  and  sweet  though  it  is, 
is  artificial  in  the  main. 

Leigh  Hunt  was  born  at  Southgate,  in  Middlesex, 
and  studied  with  Coleridge  and  Lamb  at  Christ's  Hos- 
pital School.  His  career  as  a  journalist  began  with 
the  establishment  in  1808  of  a  weekly  paper,  The  Ex- 
aminer, in  which  he  published  some  articles  reflecting 
upon  the  Prince  Regent  that  led  to  his  imprisonment 
for  libel.  A  poem  upon  the  subject  of  Francesca  da 
Rimini,  written  during  his  imprisonment,  had  consider- 
able influence  upon  both  Shelley  and  Keats.  His  short 
poem  Abou  Ben  Adhem  is  well  known.  His  style  was 
light  and  graceful ;  but  his  prose  sketches  and  criti- 
cisms are  of  greater  value  than  his  verse. 

IV.     ROMANTICISM     IN     ENGLISH     PROSE:     LAMB, 
DE    QUINCEY 

The  influence  of  the  romantic  movement  is  strongly 
felt  in  the  work  of  two  prose  writers  contemporary  with 
the  poets  just  described.  They  were  not  novelists  like 
Scott ;  their  compositions  are  properly  classified  as 
essays,  although  distinguished  from  the  ordinary  essay 
type  by  the  nature  of  their  subjects  and  the  manner 
of  treatment.  The  essays  of  Charles  Lamb,  while 
Addisonian  in  a  sense,  are  more  truly  Elizabethan  in 
spirit,  and  there  is  not  lacking  a  certain  suggestiveness 
in  them  of  the  manner  of  Keats.  A  similar  resem- 
blance in  spirit  and  method  may  be  traced  between  the 
writings  of  De  Quincey  and  the  poetry  of  Coleridge. 
De  Quincey  and  Lamb  are  both  genuine  romanticists. 
The  imaginative  element  is  conspicuous  in  the  produc- 
tions of  each. 


370         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Charles  Lamb,  the  most  delightful  of  English  essay- 

M   ,  ists,  whose  memory  is  honored  not  only  for 

Charles  '  J  J 

Lamb,  the  delicate  grace  and  flavor  of  his  style,  but 

1775-1834.  as  wejj  £or  ya  sweet  an(|  lovaDle  nature,  was 

born  in  London,  within  the  confines  of  the  Temple  - 
that  historic  structure  of  huge  proportions  and  ram- 
bling extent,  once  the  chapter  house  of  the  Knights 
Templar,  but  for  generations  appropriated  to  the  use 
of  barristers  for  offices  and  lodgings.  John  Lamb  was 
a  lawyer's  clerk,  in  exceedingly  poor  circumstances. 
There  were  three  children  who  survived  childhood: 
Charles  ;  his  sister  Mary,  ten  years  his  senior  ;  and  an 
elder  brother,  John,  who  grew  up  selfish  and  ease- 
loving,  apparently  without  concern  in  the  fortunes  and 
trials  of  the  family.  Charles  describes  his  father 1  as 
"  a  man  of  an  incorrigible  and  losing  honesty." 

Through  the  interest  of   a  friend  of  John  Lamb's 

employer,  Charles  was  taken  when  six  years 
childhood.     old  Qut  o£  the  dingy  liule  gchool  in  Fetter 

Lane,  where  he  obtained  the  rudiments  of  learning,  and 
given  a  scholarship  in  the  famous  "  blue-coat "  school 
of  Christ's  Hospital,  where  he  remained  seven  years, 
and  where  the  life-long  friendship  with  Coleridge,  his 
fellow  pupil,  was  firmly  established.  Lamb's  child- 
hood was  darkened  by  the  struggle  with  poverty,  but 
his  cheery,  courageous  temper  was  early  in  evidence. 
His  imagination  was  particularly  active  ;  he  declares 
that  from  his  fourth  to  his  seventh  year  he  never  laid 
his  head  on  his  pillow  "  without  an  assurance,  which 
realized  its  own  prophecy,  of  seeing  some  frightful 
spectre."  2  He  was  a  good  Latin  scholar,  and  amused 
himself  by  turning  nursery  rhymes  into  that  language. 

1  Under  the  name  of  "  Lovel,"  in    The  Old  Benchers  of  the   Inner 
Temple. 

2  Witches,  and  Other  Night  Fears. 


CHARLES   AND   MARY   LAMB  371 

In  the  study  of  Greek  he  did  not  proceed  very  far, 
reaching  the  rank  of  "  deputy-Grecian,"  beyond  which 
he  could  not  pass,  as  the  higher  grade  presupposed  an 
entrance  into  the  ministry  ;  and  from  this  he  was  pre- 
vented by  an  unfortunate  impediment  in  his  speech 
which  made  him  a  stutterer  all  his  life. 

In  1789  Charles  Lamb  left  school  —  fourteen  years 
old  —  and  at  that  youthful  age  took  up  the  An  Office 
responsibilities  of  active  life.  His  father's  Clerk- 
health  was  failing,  and  the  shadow  of  a  terrible  malady 
hung  over  the  household.  The  boy  found  employment 
in  the  South-Sea  House,  the  office  of  a  great  London 
trading  company ;  two  years  later  he  secured  a  clerk- 
ship with  the  East  India  Company,  in  whose  employ  he 
continued  for  thirty-three  years.  He  found  little  lei- 
sure ;  but  when  Coleridge  occasionally  ran  down  from 
Cambridge  for  a  brief  visit  to  London,  it  was  the  plea- 
sure of  the  two  school  comrades  to  meet  at  the  "  Salu- 
tation and  Cat "  to  spend  long  evenings  together  in  the 
discussion  of  literature  and  old  times.  Lamb's  first 
literary  efforts  appeared  in  connection  with  his  friend's. 
In  1796  Coleridge  printed  his  first  volume  of  poems, 
and  there  were  included  four  sonnets  signed  "  C.  L." 

The  winter  of  1795-96  ushered  in  a  year  of  tragic 
significance  for  the  Lambs.     Insanity  was  a  The  Tra 
family  inheritance.     John  Lamb,  the  father,  gedyoftne 
had  gradually  lost  his  faculties  until  now  he 
had  lapsed  into  the  condition  of  a  child.     During  the 
winter  Charles  himself  succumbed  to  an  attack  of  the 
disease  and  passed  some  weeks  in  confinement  at  a 
hospital  for  the  insane.     The  mother  was  an  invalid. 
The  burden  of  the  household  necessarily  fell  upon  Mary 
Lamb.     In  September,  1796,  her  own  reason  gave  way, 
and  in  a  fit  of  madness  she  took  her  mother's  life.     So 
long  as  the  father  lived  Mary  remained  in  confinement, 


372         FROM   WORDSWORTH  TO   TENNYSON 

gradually  recovering  her  reason  under  treatment.   Such 

was  the  calamity  which  fell  upon  Charles  and  Mary 

Lamb,  an  affliction  from  the  effects  of  which  they  were 

never  entirely  freed.     Some  knowledge  of  its  details  is 

necessary  if   we  would    appreciate    the   extraordinary 

fortitude  and  patient  heroism  which  distinguished  the 

lives  of  this  gifted  pair. 

By  and  by,  upon  assuming  certain  responsibilities, 

Brother  Charles  Lamb  was  permitted  by  the  authori- 
and  Sister.     j.jeg  £0  care   £Qr  ^   sjs^er  jn   hjs   home.      She 

continued  subject  to  occasional  temporary  derangement 
all  her  life  ;  when  threatening  symptoms  appeared  she 
was  placed  in  a  retreat,  returning  after  recovery  to  the 
home.  A  friend  of  the  family  relates  how  once  he  met 
Charles  and  Mary  Lamb  walking,  hand  in  hand,  across 
the  fields  to  the  old  asylum,  their  faces  bathed  in  tears. 
The  attachment  of  this  brother  and  sister  was  ideal ; 
none  other  ever  crept  in  to  interrupt  it.  As  long  as  he 
lived  Charles  cared  for  his  sister's  comfort  with  an 
almost  religious  devotion ;  and  in  her  turn  she  devoted 
herself  to  him. 

Mary  Lamb  shared  the  talents  of  Charles. 

"  Her  education  in  youth  was  not  much  attended  to.  .  .  . 
She  was  tumbled  early,  by  accident  or  design,  into  a  spacious 
closet  of  good  old  English  reading,  without  much  selection 
or  prohibition,  and  browsed  at  will  upon  that  fair  and  whole- 
some pasturage."  * 

Lamb's  literary  career  began  unostentatiously  with 
The  Liter-  ^ie  publication,  in  1797,  of  Poems  by  Charles 
aryLiie.  Lamb  and  Charles  Lloyd ;  fifteen  of  these, 
described  by  a  contemporary  reviewer  as  "  plaintive," 
were  by  Lamb.     In  1798  he  published  a  prose  tale  of 

1  Mackery  End,  in  Hertfordshire,  in  which  Lamb  describes  his  sister 
under  the  name  of  ' '  Bridget  Elia." 


THE   TALES  FROM   SHAKESPEARE  373 

Rosamund  Gray  and  Old  Blind  Margaret.  His  un- 
successful drama,  John  Woodvil,  followed  in  1799. 
Success  was  slow  in  coming.  There  were  occasional 
contributions  to  the  newspapers,  six  jokes  a  day  to  The 
Post,  at  sixpence  ;  but  prospects  were  not  very  encour- 
aging. 

"  It  has  been  sad  and  heavy  times  with  us  lately,"  writes 
Mary  Lamb  in  1805.  "  When  I  am  pretty  well  his  low 
spirits  throw  me  back  again ;  and  when  he  begins  to  get  a 
little  cheerful,  then  I  do  the  same  kind  office  for  him.  You 
would  laugh,  or  you  would  cry,  perhaps  both,  to  see  us  sit 
together,  looking  at  each  other  with  long  and  rueful  faces, 
and  saying  '  How  do  you  do  ?  '  and  '  How  do  you  do  ?  '  and 
then  we  fall  a  crying,  and  say  we  will  be  better  on  the  morrow. 
He  says  we  are  like  toothache  and  his  friend  gumboil,  which 
though  a  kind  of  ease,  is  but  an  uneasy  kind  of  ease,  a  com- 
fort of  rather  an  uncomfortable  sort." 

But  the  spirit  of  the  home  was  by  no  means  gloomy. 
Coleridge,  with  his  brilliant  conversation,  was  a  fre- 
quent guest ;  Wordsworth  and  Southey  were  familiar 
visitors  :  and  within  the  small  circle  of  his  intimate 
friends  the  gay  spirits  of  Charles  Lamb  easily  broke 
through  the  shyness  and  the  melancholy  that  sometimes 
oppressed  him. 

The  first  real  success  came  in  1807,  with  the  publi- 
cation of  Tales  from  Shakespeare.     In  this 

...  .        The  Talcs 

work,  which  still  remains  a  much  used  classic,  from 

the    stories    of   the    most   important    Shake-  Siake- 

1  ,        speare. 

spearian  dramas  are  told  with  remarkable  in- 
sight and  charm  of  style.  Mary  Lamb  had  a  part  in 
the  honors  of  this  achievement,  the  comedies  having 
been  treated  by  her,  while  her  brother  worked  upon 
the  tragedies.  A  new  interest  was  aroused  in  the 
literature  of  Elizabeth's  time  which  had  been  long 
neglected,  an  interest  which  was  further  stimulated  by 


374         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

the  publication  in  the  following  year  of  Specimens  of 
English  Dramatic  Poets  Contemporary  with  Shake- 
speare.  These  works  gave  Lamb  an  established  repu- 
tation in  literary  criticism.  Two  subsequent  essays,  on 
The  Tragedies  of  Shakespeare  and  on  The  Genius 
and  Character  of  Hogarth,  added  to  his  fame.  It 
was  not,  however,  until  the  Essays  of  Elia1  began 
to  appear  in  the  newly  established  London  Magazine 
that  the  real  genius  of  Lamb  was  revealed. 

In  August,  1820,  the  essayist  contributed  his  first 
The  Essays  paper  to  the  Magazine,  that  upon  The 
oiEiia.  South- Sea  House.  One  a  month  these  papers 
continued  to  appear  until  the  close  of  1822,  when  the 
entire  series  was  published  under  the  title  by  which 
they  are  universally  known.  The  subjects  of  these 
essays  seem  to  have  been  chosen  almost  at  haphazard : 
they  range  from  Oxford  in  the  Vacation  to  The  Praise 
of  Chimney-  Svjeepers  and  A  Dissertation  upon  Roast 
Pig  ;  from  Christ's  Hospital  Five-and- Thirty  Years 
Ago  to  A  Bachelor  s  Complaint  of  the  Behavior  of 
Married  People.  There  is  much  in  these  light-hearted, 
breezy  observations  upon  the  humors  of  life  to  remind 
one  of  Addison  and  Steele  ;  but  they  have  a  distinction 
and  a  flavor  entirely  of  their  own.  Lamb  was  enamored 
of  the  old;  he  declared  that  when  a  new  book  ap- 
peared he  read  an  old  one.  He  confesses  "  hanging 
over,  for  the  thousandth  time,  some  passage  in  old 
Burton,  or  one  of  his  strange  contemporaries."  2  The 
Religio  Medici,  the  works  of  the  older  dramatists,  were 
a  source  of  never-failing  delight.  He  was  saturated 
with  the  very  diction  of  the  Elizabethan  writers,  their 
conceits,  their  turns  of  phrase  ;  there  is  much  to  suggest 

1  The  name  "  Elia  "  really  belonged  to  a  fellow  clerk,  and  was  appro- 
priated as  a  joke  by  Lamb,  who  signed  his  contributions  by  that  name, 

2  Mackery  End,  in  Hertfordshire. 


SUGGESTIONS  375 

them  in  the  English  of  "  Elia."  The  Essays  are  filled 
with  the  gentle  humor  of  their  author's  sunny  spirit. 
There  is  no  irony,  no  cynicism  in  Lamb's  criticism 
of  life.  He  was  asked  one  day  if  he  did  not  hate 
a  certain  person.  "Hate  him?"  he  retorted;  "how 
could  I  hate  him  ?  Don't  I  know  him  ?  I  never  could 
hate  any  one  I  knew."  He  was  a  timid,  sensitive,  ner- 
vous, stammering  little  man,  at  ease  only  among  the 
few  who  were  his  intimate  associates  ;  yet  he  loved 
the  crowded  thoroughfares  of  the  metropolis,  and 
craved  the  presence  and  nearness  of  his  fellows.  He 
once  wrote  to  Wordsworth  that  he  often  shed  tears  in 
the  motley  Strand,  from   fullness  of  joy  at  so  much 

life. 

In  1825  Lamb  was  given  a  generous  pension  by  his 
employers,  and  released  from  the  servitude  of 
the  desk.  But  the  last  years  were  not  happy 
ones.  Mary's  malady  was  growing  worse;  Charles's 
health  was  failing.  The  experiment  of  a  rural  resi- 
dence brought  loneliness.  Finally  they  settled  in  Ed- 
monton. The  Last  Essays  of  Elia  were  published  in 
1833.  The  following  year  Charles  died.  Mary  Lamb 
lived  until  1847,  dying  at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  She 
was  buried  by  her  brother's  side,  in  the  churchyard 
of  Edmonton. 

To  suggest  a  "  study  "  of  Charles  Lamb  would  almost 
spoil  the  pleasure  which  may  be  absorbed,  intui-  SnKgestlons 
tively,  by  a  sympathetic  reading  of  these  delight- 
ful essays.  It  seems  more  appropriate  to  suggest  merely 
what  appears  the  more  direct  and  natural  route  to  the  heart 
of  Elia,  by  indicating  certain  essays  to  be  read  in  order, 
leaving  the  student  to  use  his  own  good  sense  and  ready 
inclination  for  further  self-direction.  Take,  then,  first, 
those  papers  which  deal  with  the  localities  associated  with 
Elia's  interests  :    The  Old  Benchers  of  the  Inner  Temple, 


376         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Christ's  Hospital  Five-and-Thirty  Years  Ago,  Blakesmore 

in  H shire,   The  South-Sea  House,  Mockery  End    in 

Hertfordshire.  Some  of  the  essays  named  contain  delicate 
portraitures  of  character  which  introduce,  under  transparent 
disguises,  the  author's  relatives  and  friends.  In  My  Re- 
lations we  have  a  sketch  of  the  older  brother  John.  Now 
turn  at  will  among  the  remaining  papers  of  either  series ; 
discover  for  yourself  specimens  of  Lamb's  delicate  humor, 
like  the  episode  of  the  Quakers  at  Andover  in  Imperfect 
Sympathies,  the  wealth  of  jocular  allusion  in  All  Fools' 
Day,  the  quaint  and  sunny  philosophy  contained  in  Mrs. 
Battle's  Opinions  on  Whist,  the  quizzical  confessions  of  his 
own  defects  in  The  Old  and  the  New  Schoolmaster,  and  in 
A  Chapter  on  Ears,  with  revelations  of  a  more  serious 
sentiment  in  Old  China,  Barbara  S.,  and  The  Old  Margate 
Hoy,  or  the  pathetic  confidences  of  Dream  Children ;  A 
Revery,  and  the  frank,  self-portraiture  of  The  Superannu- 
ated Man.  The  antiquated  phrasings,  the  choice  discrimi- 
nation of  terms,  the  rich  vocabulary  —  these  may  all  be 
noted  without  the  exact  and  careful  processes  of  formal 
study.  Take  the  Essays  of  Elia  and  read  the  character 
of  Charles  Lamb. 

The  Essays  of  Elia  are  published  in  the  Camelot 
Briel  Bibii-  Series.  The  Tales  from  Shakespeare  are  included 
ography.  [n  Numbers  64,  65,  66  of  the  Riverside  Litera- 
ture Series  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company)  ;  Number  79 
contains  nine  of  the  most  noted  Essays.  The  Life,  Letters, 
and  Writings  of  Charles  Lamb,  edited  by  Percy  Fitzgerald, 
is  a  standard  work.  The  Poems,  Plays,  and  Miscellaneous 
Essays  are  edited  by  A.  Ainger  (Macmillan).  The  best 
Life  of  Lamb  is  that  by  Ainger,  in  the  English  Men  of 
Letters  Series.  There  are  interesting  essays  upon  Lamb 
by  G.  E.  Woodberry,  in  Makers  of  Literature,  by  Walter 
Pater,  in  Appreciations,  by  Augustine  Birrell,  in  Obiter 
Dicta,  and  by  De  Quincey,  in  his  Biographical  Essays. 

Thomas  De  Quincey  is  one  of  the  eccentric  figures  in 
English    literature.      Popularly   he    is    known    as   the 


THOMAS  DE  QUINCEY  377 

English  Opium-Eater  and  as  the  subject  of   numer- 
ous anecdotes  which  emphasize  the  oddities  Thomas 
of  his  temperament  and  the  unconventional-  De  Quincey, 
ity  of  his  habits.     That  this  man  of  distin- 
guished genius  was  the   victim  —  pitifully  the  victim 
—  of  opium  is  the  lamentable  fact ;  that  he  was  mor- 
bidly shy  and  shunned  intercourse   with   all   except  a 
few  intimate,  congenial  friends  ;  that  he  was  comically 
indifferent  to  the  fashion  of  his  dress  ;  that  he  was  the 
most  unpractical  and  childlike  of  men  ;  that  he  was 
often  betrayed,   because   of    these   peculiarities,   into 
many  ridiculous  embarrassments,  —  of  all  this  there 
can  be  no  doubt ;  but  these  idiosyncrasies  are,  after  all, 
of  minor  importance  —  the  accidents,  not  the  essentials 
in  the  life   and  personality  of  this  remarkable   man. 
The  points  that  should  attract  our  notice,  the  qualities 
that  really  give   distinction  to   De  Quincey,    are  the 
broad  sweep  of  his  knowledge,  almost  unlimited  in  its 
scope  ana  singmariy  accurate  in  its  details,  a  facility  of 
phrasing  and  a  word  supply  that  transformed  the  mere 
power  of  discriminating  expression  into  a  tine  art,  and 
a    style  that,  while  it   lapsed   occasionally  from    the 
standard  of  its  own  excellence,  was  generally  self-cor- 
rective and  frequently  forsook  the  levels  of  common- 
place excellence  for  the  highest  reaches  of  impassioned 
prose.    Nor  is  this  all.    His  pages  do  not  lack  in  humor 
—  humor  of  the  truest  and  most  delicate  type  ;  and  if 
De  Quincey  is  at  times  impelled  beyond  the  bounds  of 
taste,  even  these  excursions  demonstrate  his  power,  at 
least,  in  handling  the  grotesque.    His  sympathies,  how- 
ever, are  always  genuine,  and  often  are  profound. 

Thomas  De  Quincey  was  born  in  Manchester  August 
15,  1785.     His  father  was  a  well-to-do  mer- 
chant of  literary  taste ;  but  of  him  the  chil- 
dren of  the  household  scarcely  knew :  he  was  an  invalid, 


378         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

a  prey  to  consumption,  and  during  their  childhood  made 
his  residence  mostly  in  the  milder  climate  of  Lisbon  or 
the  West  Indies.  Thomas  was  seven  years  old  when 
his  father  was  brought  home  to  die,  and  the  lad,  though 
sensitively  impressed  by  the  event,  felt  little  of  the 
significance  of  relationship  between  them.  Mrs.  De 
Quincey  was  a  somewhat  stately  lady,  rather  strict  in 
discipline  and  rigid  in  her  views. 

De  Quincey's  child  life  was  spent  in  the  country ; 
first  at  a  pretty  rustic  dwelling  known  as  "  The  Farm," 
and  after  1792  at  a  larger  country  house  near  Man- 
chester, built  by  his  father,  and  given  by  his  mother 
the  pleasantly  suggestive  name  of  "  Greenhay  "  —  hay 
meaning  hedge,  or  hedgerow.  De  Quincey  was  not 
a  sturdy  boy.  Shy  and  dreamy,  exquisitely  sensitive 
to  impressions  of  melancholy  and  mystery,  he  was 
endowed  with  an  imagination  abnormally  active  even 
for  a  child.  It  is  customary  to  give  prominence 
to  De  Quincey's  pernicious  habit  of  opium-eating,  in 
attempting  to  explain  the  grotesque  fancies  and  weird 
flights  of  his  marvelous  mind  in  later  years  ;  yet  it  is 
only  fair  to  emphasize  the  fact  that  the  later  achieve- 
ments of  that  strange  creative  faculty  were  clearly 
foreshadowed  in  youth.  For  example,  the  earliest  in- 
cident in  his  life  that  he  could  afterward  recall  he 
describes  as 

"  a  remarkable  dream  of  terrific  grandeur  about  a  favorite 
nurse,  which  is  interesting  to  myself  for  this  reason  —  that 
it  demonstrates  my  dreaming  tendencies  to  have  been  consti- 
tutional, and  not  dependent  upon  laudanum."  1 

Again  he  tells  us  how,  when  six  years  old,  upon  the 
death  of  a  favorite  sister  three  years  older,  he  stole 
unobserved  upstairs  to  the  death  chamber ;  unlocking 

1  Autobiographic  Sketches,  ch.  i. 


SCHOOL  DAYS  379 

the  door  and  entering  silently,  he  stood  for  a  moment 
gazing  through  the  open  window  toward  the  bright 
sunlight  of  a  cloudless  day,  then  turned  to  behold  the 
angel  face  upon  the  pillow.  Awed  in  the  presence  of 
death,  the  meaning  of  which  he  began  vaguely  to  un- 
derstand, he  stood  listening  to  a  "  solemn  wind  "  that 
began  to  blow — "the  saddest  that  ear  ever  heard." 
What  followed  should  appear  in  De  Quincey's  own 
words :  — 

"  A  vault  seemed  to  open  in  the  zenith  of  the  far  blue 
sky,  a  shaft  which  ran  up  forever.  I,  in  spirit,  rose  as  if  on 
billows  that  also  ran  up  the  shaft  forever ;  and  the  billows 
seemed  to  pursue  the  throne  of  God  ;  but  that  also  ran  on 
before  us  and  fled  away  continually.  The  flight  and  the 
pursuit  seemed  to  go  on  forever  and  ever.  Frost  gathering 
frost,  some  sarsar  x  wind  of  death,  seemed  to  repel  me  ;  some 
mighty  relation  between  God  and  death  dimly  struggled  to 
evolve  itself  from  the  dreadful  antagonism  between  them  ; 
shadowy  meanings  even  yet  continued  to  exercise  and  tor- 
ment, in  dreams,  the  deciphering  oracle  within  me.  I  slept 
—  for  how  long  I  cannot  say :  slowly  I  recovered  my  self- 
possession  ;  and  when  I  woke,  found  myself  standing  as 
before,  close  to  my  sister's  bed." 

In  1796  the  home  at  Greenhay  was  broken  up.    Mrs. 

De  Quincev  removed  to  Bath,  and  Thomas  m  t   , 

^  J  School  Days. 

was  placed  in  the  grammar  school  of  that 
town.  Four  years  later  he  entered  the  grammar  school 
at  Manchester,  his  guardians  expecting  that  a  three 
years'  course  in  this  school  would  bring  him  a  schol- 
arship at  Oxford.  However,  the  new  environment 
proved  wholly  uncongenial,  and  the  sensitive  boy  who, 
in  spite  of  his  shyness  and  his  slender  frame,  possessed 
grit  in  abundance,  and  who  was  through  life  more  or 
less  a  law  to  himself,  made  up  his  mind  to  run  away 

1  Derived  from  Sahara. 


380         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

His  flight  was  significant.  Early  on  a  July  morning 
he  slipped  quietly  oft*  —  in  one  pocket  a  copy  of  an 
English  poet,  a  volume  of  Euripides  in  the  other.  His 
first  move  was  toward  Chester  —  the  seventeen-year-old 
runaway  deeming  it  proper  that  he  should  report  at 
once  to  his  mother,  who  was  now  living  in  that  town. 
So  he  trudged  overland  forty  miles  and  faced  his 
astonished  and  indignant  parent.  At  the  suggestion 
of  a  kind-hearted  uncle,  just  home  from  India,  Thomas 
was  let  off  easily ;  indeed,  he  was  given  an  allowance 
of  a  guinea  a  week,  with  permission  to  go  on  a  tramp 
through  North  Wales,  a  proposition  which  he  hailed 
with  delight.  The  next  three  months  were  spent  in  a 
rather  pleasant  ramble,  although  the  weekly  allowance 
was  scarcely  sufficient  to  supply  all  the  comforts  de- 
sired. The  trip  ended  strangely.  Some  sudden  fancy 
seizing  him,  the  boy  broke  off  all  connection  with  his 
friends  and  went  to  London.  Unknown,  unprovided 
for,  he  buried  himself  in  the  vast  life  of  the  metro- 
polis. He  lived  a  precarious  existence  for  several 
months,  suffering  from  exposure,  reduced  to  the  verge 
of  starvation,  his  whereabouts  a  mystery  to  his  friends. 
The  cloud  of  this  experience  hung  darkly  over  his  spirit, 
even  in  later  manhood  ;  perceptions  of  a  true  world  of 
strife  were  vivid  ;  impressions  of  these  wretched  months 
formed  the  material  of  his  most  sombre  dreams. 

Rescued  at  last,  providentially,  De  Quincey  spent  the 
next  period  of  his  life,  covering  the  years  1803-7,  in 
residence  at  Oxford.  His  career  as  a  student  at  the 
University  is  obscure.  He  was  a  member  of  Worcester 
College,  was  known  as  a  quiet,  studious  man,  and  lived 
an  isolated  if  not  a  solitary  life.  In  1807  he  disap- 
peared from  Oxford,  having  taken  the  written  tests 
for  his  degree,  but  failing  to  present  himself  for  the 
necessary  oral  examination. 


THE   OPIUM-EATER  381 

The  year  of  his  departure  from  Oxford  brought  to 
De  Quincey  a  long-coveted  pleasure,  —  ac- 
quaintance  with  two  famous  contemporaries  Friend- 
whom  he  greatly  admired,  Coleridge  and  s  ps" 
Wordsworth.  Characteristic  of  De  Quincey  in  many 
ways  was  his  gift,  anonymously  made,  of  £300  to  his 
hero,  Coleridge.  This  was  in  1807,  when  De  Quincey 
was  twenty-two,  and  was  master  of  his  inheritance. 
The  acquaintance  ripened  into  intimacy,  and  in  1809  the 
young  man,  himself  gifted  with  talents  which  were  to 
make  him  equally  famous  with  these,  took  up  his  resi- 
dence at  Grasmere,  in  the  Lake  Country,  occupying  for 
many  years  the  cottage  which  Wordsworth  had  given 
up  on  his  removal  to  ampler  quarters  at  Rydal  Mount. 
Here  he  spent  much  of  his  time  in  the  society  of  the 
men  who  were  then  grouped  in  distinguished  neigh- 
borhood ;  besides  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge,  the  poet 
Southey  was  accessible,  and  a  frequent  visitor  was  John 
Wilson,  later  widely  known  as  the  "  Christopher  North  " 
of  Blackwood' 's  Magazine.  Nor  was  De  Quincey  idle  ; 
his  habits  of  study  were  confirmed ;  indeed,  he  was 
already  a  philosopher  at  twenty-four.  These  were  years 
of  hard  reading  and  industrious  thought,  wherein  he 
accumulated  much  of  that  metaphysical  wisdom  which 
was  afterward  to  win  admiring  recognition.  In  1816 
De  Quincey  married  Margaret  Simpson,  a  farmer's 
daughter  living  near. 

De  Quincey's  experience  with  opium  had  begun 
while  he  was  a  student  at  the  University,  in  The0plum. 
1804.  It  was  first  taken  to  obtain  relief  from  Eater. 
neuralgia,  and  his  use  of  the  drug  did  not  at  once  be- 
come habitual.  During  the  period  of  residence  at 
Grasmere,  however,  De  Quincey  became  confirmed  in 
the  habit,  and  so  thoroughly  was  he  its  victim  that  for 
a  season  his  intellectual  powers  were  well-nigh   para- 


382         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

lyzed  ;  his  mind  sank  under  such  a  cloud  of  depression 
and  gloom  that  his  condition  was  pitiful  in  the  extreme. 
Just  before  his  marriage,  in  1816,  De  Quincey,  by  a 
vigorous  effort,  partially  regained  his  self-control  and 
succeeded  in  materially  reducing  his  daily  allowance 
of  the  drug ;  but  in  the  following  year  he  fell  more 
deeply  than  ever  under  its  baneful  power,  until  in 
1818-19  his  consumption  of  opium  was  something 
almost  incredible.  Thus  he  became  truly  enough  the 
great  English  Opiuni-Eater,  whose  Confessions  were 
later  to  fill  a  unique  place  in  English  literature.  It 
was  finally  the  absolute  need  of  bettering  his  financial 
condition  that  compelled  De  Quincey  to  shake  off  the 
shackles  of  his  vice  ;  this  he  practically  accomplished, 
although  perhaps  he  was  never  entirely  free  from  the 
habit.  The  event  is  coincident  with  the  beginning  of 
his  career  as  a  public  writer.  In  1820  he  became  a 
man  of  letters. 

As  a  professional  writer  it  is  to  be  noted  that 
De  Quincey  was  throughout  a  contributor  to  the  peri- 
odicals. With  one  or  two  exceptions  all  his  works 
found  their  way  to  the  public  through  the  pages  of  the 
magazines,  and  he  was  associated  as  contributor  with 
most  of  those  that  were  prominent  in  his  time.  From 
1821  to  1825  we  find  him  residing  for  the  most  part  in 
London,  and  here  his  public  career  began.  It  was  De 
Quincey's  most  distinctive  work  which  first  appeared. 
The  London  Magazine,  in  its  issue  for  September, 
1821,  contained  the  first  paper  of  the  Confessions 
of  an  English  Opium-Eater.  The  novelty  of  the  sub- 
ject was  sufficient  to  obtain  for  the  new  writer  an  in- 
terested hearing,  and  there  was  much  discussion  as  to 
whether  his  apparent  frankness  was  genuine  or  assumed. 
All  united  in  applause  of  the  masterly  style  which  dis- 
tinguished the  essay,  also  of  the  profundity  and  value 


THE   MAGAZINE   ARTICLES  383 

of  the  interesting  material  it  contained.  A  second 
part  was  included  in  the  magazine  for  October.  Other 
articles  by  the  Opium-Eater  followed,  in  which  the 
wide  scholarship  of  the  author  was  abundantly  shown, 
although  the  topics  were  of  less  general  interest. 

In  1826  De  Quincey  became  an  occasional  contribu- 
tor to  Blackwood' 's  Magazine,  and  this  con-  Tho 
nection  drew  him  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  Magazine 
remained,  either  in  the  city  itself  or  in  its 
vicinity,  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  The  grotesquely  hu- 
morous Essay  on  Murder  Considered  as  One  of  the 
Fine  Arts  appeared  in  Blackwood's  in  1827.  In  1832 
he  published  a  series  of  articles  on  Roman  history,  en- 
titled The  Ccesars.  It  was  in  July,  1837,  that  the 
Revolt  of  the  Tartars  appeared ;  in  1840  his  critical 
paper  upon  The  Essenes.  Meanwhile  De  Quincey  had 
begun  contributions  to  Taitfs  Magazine,  another  Edin- 
burgh publication,  and  it  was  in  that  periodical  that 
the  Sketches  of  Life  and  Manners  from  the  Autobio- 
graphy of  an  English  Opium-Eater  began  to  appear 
in  1834,  running  on  through  several  years.  These 
sketches  include  the  chapters  on  Wordsworth,  Cole- 
ridge, Lamb,  and  Southey,  as  well  as  those  Autobio- 
graphic Sketches  which  form  such  a  charming  and 
illuminating  portion  of  his  complete  works. 

The  family  life  was  sadly  broken  in  1837  by  the  death 
of  De  Quincey's  wife.  He  who  was  now  left  as  guar- 
dian of  the  little  household  of  six  children  was  himself  so 
helpless  in  all  practical  matters  that  it  seemed  as  though 
he  were  in  their  childish  care  rather  than  protector  of 
them.  Scores  of  anecdotes  are  related  of  his  odd  and 
unpractical  behavior.  One  of  his  curious  habits  had 
been  the  multiplication  of  lodgings ;  as  books  and 
manuscripts  accumulated  about  him,  so  that  there  re- 
mained room  for  no  more,  he  would  turn  the  key  upon 


384         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

his  possessions  and  migrate  elsewhere,  to  repeat  the  per- 
formance later  on.  It  is  known  that  as  many  as  four 
separate  rents  were  at  one  and  the  same  time  being  paid 
by  this  eccentric  man  of  genius,  rather  than  allow  the 
disturbance  or  contraction  of  his  domain. 

The  literary  labors  were  continuous.  In  1845  the 
beautiful  Suspiria  de  Profundis  (Sighs  from  the 
Depths)  appeared  in  Blackwood's  ;  The  English  Mail 
Coach  and  The  Vision  of  Sudden  Death  in  1849. 
Among  other  papers  contributed  to  Taifs  Magazine, 
the  Joan  of  Arc  appeared  in  1847.  During  the  last 
ten  years  of  his  life  De  Quincey  was  occupied  chiefly 
in  preparing  for  the  publishers  a  complete  edition  of 
his  works.  Ticknor  &  Fields  of  Boston,  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  our  American  publishing  firms,  had  put 
forth,  1851-55,  the  first  edition  of  De  Quincey's  col- 
lected writings,  in  twenty  volumes.  The  first  British 
edition  was  undertaken  by  Mr.  James  Hogg  of  Edin- 
burgh, in  1853,  with  the  cooperation  of  the  author,  and 
under  his  direction;  the  final  volume  of  this  edition 
was  not  issued  until  the  year  following  De  Quincey's 
death. 

In  the  autumn  of  1859  the  frail  physique  of  the  now 
famous  Opium-Eater  grew  gradually  feeble,  although 
suffering  from  no  definite  disease.  It  became  evident 
that  his  life  was  drawing  to  its  end.  On  December  8,  his 
two  daughters  standing  by  his  side,  he  fell  into  a  doze. 
His  mind  had  been  wandering  amid  the  scenes  of  his 
childhood,  and  his  last  utterance  was  the  cry, "  Sister, 
sister,  sister !  "  as  if  in  recognition  of  one  awaiting  him, 
one  who  had  been  often  in  his  dreams,  the  beloved 
Elizabeth,  whose  death  had  made  so  profound  and  last- 
ing an  impression  on  his  imagination  as  a  child.  ■ 

De  Quincey  is  an  author  to  he  studied.  Of  the  "  one 
hundred  and  fifty  magazine  articles  "  which  comprise  his 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  385 

works,  there  are  many  that  will  not  claim  the  general  inter- 
est ;  yet  his  writings  as  a  whole  will  he  recognized   Sugges. 
by  students  of  rhetoric  always,  as  containing  excel-   tions  lor 
lences  which  place  their  author  among  the  English      u  y" 
classics.     Two  leading  characteristics  should  become    obvi- 
ous to  the  student  who  reads  the  more  important  and  more 
attractive  of  these  essays  :  the  great  imaginative  power  of  the 
author,   and  the  very  evident  romanticism  which  pervades 
these  works. 

A  comparison  between  De  Quincey  and  Lamb  both  in 
choice  of  themes  and  method  of  treatment  will  show  many 
contrasts  as  well  as  some  resemblances.  In  style  they  are 
wholly  different :  which  of  the  two  attracts  you  the  more  ? 
It  will  be  intei'esting  to  read  De  Quincey's  account  of  A  Meet- 
ing with  Lamb  :  what  serious  defects  do  you  note  in  the 
composition  of  this  article  ? 

Particularly  worthy  of  reading  are  the  Autobiographic 
Sketches,  The  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater, 
The  English  Mail  Coach,  and  The  Vision  of  Sudden  Death, 
Joan  of  Arc,  the  Suspiria  de  Profundis,  and  Miwder  Con- 
sidered as  One  of  the  Fine  Arts.  An  excellent  volume  of 
Selections  from  De  Quincey  has  been  edited,  with  an  elabo- 
rate introduction  and  notes,  by  M.  H.  Turk,  in  The  Athe- 
naeum Press  Series  (Ginn)  ;  this  volume  is  recommended  for 
the  speeial  study  of  the  essayist. 

The  authoritative  edition  of  De  Quincey's  Works  is  that 
edited  by  David  Masson  and  published  in  fourteen  Brlei  B1W1_ 
volumes  by  Adam  and  Charles  Black  (Edinburgh),  ography. 
For  American  students  the  Riverside  Edition,  in  twelve  vol- 
umes (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company),  will  be  found  con- 
venient. The  most  satisfactory  Life  of  De  Quincey  is  the 
one  by  Masson  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series.  Of  a 
more  anecdotal  type  are  the  Life  of  De  Quincey  by  H.  A. 
Page,  whose  real  name  is  Alexander  H.  Japp  (2  vols.,  New 
York,  1877),  and  De  Quincey  Memorials  (New  York,  1891), 
by  the  same  author.  Very  interesting  is  the  brief  volume, 
Recollections  of  Thomas  De  Quincey,  by  John  R.  Findlay 
(Edinburgh,  1886),  who  also  contributes  the  paper  on  De 


386         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Quincey  to  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica.  De  Quincey  and 
his  Friends,  by  James  Hogg  (London,  1895),  is  another 
volume  of  recollections,  souvenirs,  and  anecdotes  which  help 
to  make  real  their  subject's  personality.  Besides  the  editor, 
other  writers  contribute  to  this  volume  :  Richard  Woodhouse, 
John  R.  Findlay,  and  John  Hill  Burton,  who  has  given 
under  the  name  "  Papaverius  "  a  picturesque  description  of 
the  Opium-Eater.  The  student  should  always  remember  that 
De  Quincey's  own  chapters  in  the  Autobiographic  Sketches, 
and  the  Confessions  of  an  English  Opium-Eater,  which  are 
among  the  most  charming  and  important  of  his  writings, 
are  also  the  most  authoritative  and  most  valuable  sources 
of  our  information  concerning  him.  In  reading  about  De 
Quincey  do  not  fail  to  read  De  Quincey  himself. 

The  best  criticism  of  the  Opium-Eater's  work  is  found 
in  William  Minto's  Manual  of  English  Prose  Literature 
(Ginn  and  Company).  A  shorter  essay  is  contained  in 
Saintsbury's  History  of  Nineteenth  Century  Literature.  A 
very  valuable  list  of  all  De  Quincey's  writings,  in  chrono- 
logical order,  is  given  by  Fred  N.  Scott,  in  his  edition  of  De 
Quincey's  essays  on  Style,  Rhetoric,  and  iAinguage  (Allyn 
&  Bacon).  Numerous  magazine  articles  may  be  found  by 
referring  to  Poole's  Index. 

Among  the  prose  writers  of  this  generation  were  a 

wniiam        group   of  men  who  won  distinction  as  essay- 

Hazllt,t'„„«  ists  in  the  special  field  of  literary  criticism. 
1778-1830.  .         *\  .    J 

Francis  Hazhtt  introduced  the  romantic  style  into 
1778-1850.  this  form  of  literature,  infusing  the  spirit 
John  0f  sentiment,  even  of  passion,  into  the  expres- 

1785-1854.   sion  of  his  critical  judgments.    His  estimates 

J°h L°k-  °^  men  are  c°l°re<l  by  his  own  personal  enthu- 
nart,  siasm  for  their  work  ;  he  writes   brilliantly, 

1794-18    .   aj.    j.jmes  wit\y  eloquence.     Among  his  most 

important  essays  are  those  on  English  Poets  (1818), 
the  English  Comic  Writers  (1819),  Dramatic  Litera- 
ture of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth  (1821),  and  the  Life  of 


JEFFREY,   LOCKHART,   WILSON  387 

Napoleon  (1828-30).  Francis  Jeffrey,  a  distinguished 
Scotch  advocate,  was  one  of  the  chief  originators  of  the 
Edinburgh  Review,  and  remained  one  of  its  principal 
contributors  for  nearly  forty  years.  With  the  auto- 
cratic and  not  infallible  judgments  of  that  famous 
quarterly,  Jeffrey's  literary  career  is  closely  identi- 
fied. His  style  was  forcible  rather  than  eloquent ; 
in  ridicule  and  satire  he  was  inimitable.  Intellectually 
keen  and  eminently  practical,  he  lacked  the  ability  to 
understand  the  new  poetry  of  Wordsworth  and  his 
fellows  or  to  appreciate  the  genius  of  Byron  or  Keats. 
John  G.  Lockhart,  the  son-in-law  of  Walter  Scott  and 
author  of  the  remarkable  Life  of  Scott  (1838),  stands 
with  Jeffrey  among  the  robust  reviewers  in  the  first  half 
of  the  century.  In  1826  he  became  editor  of  the  Quar- 
terly Review  and  took  up  his  residence  in  London. 
Like  Jeffrey  he  wielded  a  trenchant  pen,  expressing 
his  critical  opinions  at  times  in  a  manner  most  exasper- 
ating to  the  victim.  He  wrote  a,  Life  of  Burns  (1827) 
and  a  Life  of  Napoleon  (1829).  He  shai-ed  the  pre- 
judices of  the  Scotch  critics  against  the  Lake  poets, 
and  described  Tennyson's  first  volume  as  "  drivel  and 
more  dismal  drivel,  and  even  more  dismal  drivel." 
John  Wilson,  better  known  by  his  pen-name  of  "  Chris- 
topher North,"  was  a  pictui'esque  genius  of  massive 
frame  and  athletic  tastes,  whose  literary  activities  were 
connected  with  a  third  great  review,  Blackwood 's 
Magazine}  He  occupied  the  chair  of  Moral  Philoso- 
phy in  the  University  of  Edinburgh ;  but  his  career 
commenced  when  he  began  contributing  to  Black- 
wood's in  1825.  His  Nodes  Ambrosiance,  delight- 
ful reminiscences  of  his  literary  associates,  is  his 
best-known  work.     His  style  was  more  attractive  than 

1  Blackwood' 's  was   established   in    1817,  the  Edinburgh  Review  in 
1802,  the  Quarterly  in  1809. 


388         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

Jeffrey's,  and  his  critical  judgment  moTe  impartial  and 
discreet. 

Filling  a  singular  place  in  the  literary  life  of  this 
epoch  stands  the  peculiar  figure  of  Landor. 
savage  Expelled  from  Rugby  for  insubordination, 
I775°i  and  disciplined  at  Oxford  for  his  ungoverna- 
ble self-assertiveness,  he  went  his  way  through 
life  disturbing  and  disturbed.  He  was  infected,  like 
Byron,  with  the  revolutionary  fever  ;  and  in  1808  he 
raised  a  band  of  volunteers  to  assist  the  Spaniards  in 
their  struggle  with  Napoleon.  His  entrance  into  liter- 
ature came  with  the  publication  of  the  wildly  extrava- 
gant romantic  poem,  Gebir,  in  1798,  the  year  of  the 
Lyrical  Ballads.  Of  several  dramas  written  during 
the  next  few  years,  Count  Julian  was  the  most  notable, 
receiving  high  praise  from  De  Quincey.  The  works  by 
which  Landor's  name  is  best  known,  however,  the  Ima- 
ginary Conversations,  were  written  for  the  most  part 
between  1821  and  1835,  during  the  author's  residence 
in  Italy,  under  classic  rather  than  romantic  influences. 
Unique  in  their  conception,  these  Conversations  pre- 
sent the  portraitures  in  dialogue  of  well-known  histori- 
cal characters  —  in  the  main  faithf ully  suggesting  the 
traits  for  which  they  were  noted  in  life.  Diogenes  dis- 
courses with  Plato,  Marcellus  with  Hannibal ;  Henry 
VIII.  visits  Anne  Boleyn  in  the  Tower ;  Queen  Eliza- 
beth discusses  with  Cecil  the  claims  of  Spenser  the 
poet.  Epictetus  and  Seneca,  Peter  the  Great,  Louis 
XIV.,  Boccaccio  and  Petrarca,  William  Wallace, 
Bacon,  Cromwell,  Rousseau,  and  Epicurus  —  these  are 
some  of  the  diverse  types  of  various  races  and  times, 
whose  portraits  Landor  thus  delineates.  A  classic  dig- 
nity and  coldness  characterize  these  essays,  very  differ- 
ent from  the  prodigal  warmth  and  color  of  Gebir.  In 
his  old  age  Landor  continued  to  produce. 


THE  VICTORIAN  AGE  389 

"Do  you  think  the  grand  old  Pagan  wrote  that  piece 
just  now  ?  "  asks  Carlyle  of  a  Conversation  published  when 
Landor  was  over  eighty.  "  The  sound  of  it  is  like  the 
ring  of  Roman  swords  on  the  helmets  of  barbarians  !  The 
unsubduable  old  Roman."  1 

He  was  honored  by  many  distinguished  representa- 
tives of  the  new  era ;  John  Forster,  Dickens,  and 
Browning  were  among  his  friends. 

V.    THE   GREAT   ESSAYISTS:    MACAULAY,   CARLYLE, 

RUSKIN. 

The  last  great  epoch  in  the  history  of  English  liter- 
ature began  in  the  second  quarter  of  the  cen-  The  Vlc. 
tury  just  completed.  In  the  popular  life  of  torlan  ABe> 
the  nation,  as  well  as  in  its  literary  life,  the  Victorian 
age  was  an  era  of  wonderful  development  and  achieve- 
ment. Materially,  the  progress  of  invention  and  ex- 
pansion has  been  marvelous.  It  was  not  until  1829 
that  the  steam  locomotive  was  placed  in  actual  service 
upon  an  English  railway  ;  it  was  in  the  late  thirties 
that  the  first  steamships  crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  that 
the  electric  telegraph  came  into  practical  use.  Scien- 
tific discovery  has  within  this  period  opened  a  new 
world  of  human  knowledge.  The  spirit  of  democracy 
has  asserted  itself  in  the  political  and  social  organi- 
zation of  the  state.  In  1832  the  English  Reform  Bill 
was  passed,  virtually  making  the  people  the  governing 
power  of  the  kingdom.  The  growth  of  popular  edu- 
cation has  been  remarkable,  and  the  literary  activities 
of  the  age  have  kept  pace  with  the  material  and  intel- 
lectual progress  of  the  people. 

The  characteristics  of  Victorian  literature  are  best 
seen  in  the  work  of  such  representative  prose  writers 

1  See  the  excellent  introduction,  by  Havelock  Ellis,  to  Imaginary 
Conversations  in  the  Camelot  Series. 


390         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO   TENNYSON 

as  Carlyle,  Ruskin,  Arnold,  and  Dickens,  such  poets  as 
Tennyson,  Browning,  and  Morris,  preeminently  teach- 
ers of  their  generation  ;  they  reveal  their  nearness  to 
the  public  life  and  thought  of  the  age,  their  purpose 
to  assist,  to  correct,  and  to  guide  that  life  in  matters 
of  practical  concern  and  in  the  perception  of  beauty 
and  truth. 

In  reviewing  the  literary  history  of  this  period  we 
shall  consider  in  order,  first,  the  work  of  the  essayists ; 
second,  that  of  the  novelists ;  and  lastly,  the  work  of 
the  poets — in  their  respective  groups. 

First  among  the  great  writers  of  the  new  era  to 
Thomas  attract  public  attention  was  Thomas  Babing- 
Mftraulay  *on  Macaulay.  Brilliantly  successful  as  an 
1800-59.  historian  and  essayist,  sensible,  hard-headed, 
optimistic,  full  of  faith  in  the  institutions  of  his  coun- 
try, and  participating  actively  in  the  administration 
of  her  interests,  Macaulay  was  throughout  the  second 
quarter  of  the  century  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the  politi- 
cal life  of  England,  as  he  was  her  foremost  representa- 
tive in  literature. 

Macaulay  was  born  at  Rothley  Temple  in  Leicester- 
Parentage  shire.  His  father,  Zachary  Macaulay,  a  man 
and  Youth.  0f  unusual  force  of  character,  was  connected 
for  many  years  with  the  Sierra  Leone  Company,  had 
been  placed  in  charge  of  the  colony  at  Freetown  on 
the  African  coast,  and  devoted  his  energies  to  the 
movement  for  abolishing  the  slave  trade.  His  associ- 
ates were  a  band  of  philanthropists  whose  leader  was 
Wilberforce.  Mi*s.  Macaulay  was  of  Quaker  parent- 
age, had  been  a  pupil  of  the  noted  Hannah  More,  and 
maintained  an  intimate  friendship  with  that  interest- 
ing woman.  Throughout  his  youth  Macaulay  lived  in 
an  atmosphere  of  serious  purpose,  surrounded  by  the 
influences  of  noble,  unselfish  lives.     Both  parents  ex- 


MACAULAY  391 

hibited  rare  judgment  in  the  domestic  training  of  their 
talented  son. 

Macaulay's  childhood  was  quiet  and  happy.  He 
was  an  incessant  reader  from  the  time  that  he  was  three 
years  old  ;  his  favorite  attitude  was  to  lie  stretched  on 
the  rug  before  the  fire,  with  his  book  on  the  floor,  and 
a  piece  of  bread  and  butter  in  his  hand.  He  was 
famous,  while  a  boy,  for  his  extraordinary  memory  and 
his  ready  absorption  of  books.  He  knew  Scott's  Lay 
of  the  Last  Minstrel  by  heart  before  he  was  eight 
years  old,  and  was  inspired  by  its  vigorous  spirit  to 
the  composition  of  several  epics,  including  a  few  swing- 
ing cantos  upon  the  theme  of  King  Olaf  of  Norway. 
Through  life  he  retained  this  ability  to  absorb, 
almost  at  a  glance,  the  contents  of  a  page ;  and  what 
he  thus  read  he  never  forgot.  He  declared  that  if 
the  Paradise  Lost  and  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  were 
destroyed,  he  would  undertake  to  replace  both  from 
memory.  Amusing  stories  are  told  of  his  numerous 
literary  activities  and  of  his  unusual  command  of 
language  while  a  mere  child  ;  of  his  sitting  perched 
on  the  table,  while  the  housemaid  cleaned  the  silver, 
expounding  to  her  out  of  a  volume  as  big  as  himself  ; 
of  his  compendium  of  universal  history,  written  at 
seven,  of  his  hymns,  his  odes,  and  his  ballads  —  really 
extraordinary  productions  for  a  lad  of  his  years.1 

In  his  nineteenth  year  Macaulay  entered  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge.  He  won  special  honors  Atcam- 
in  the  classics  and  in  oratory,  and  received  a  bridge, 
fellowship  in  1824.  While  a  student  he  began  writing 
for  the  reviews,  and  in  1824  made  his  first  public  ad- 
dress, in  an  abolitionist  meeting.  In  1825  appeared 
his  first  contribution  to    TJie  Edinburgh  Peview,  his 

1  For  the  fuller  account  of  Macaulay's  boyhood,  read  Trevelyan's 
Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Macaulay,  ch.  i. 


392         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

famous  essay  on  Milton.  Like  Byron,  Macaulay  found 
himself  famous  in  a  clay.  Compliments  poured  in 
from  every  side  —  best  of  all  the  word  of  the  formida- 
ble Jeffrey,  editor  of  the  Review :  "  The  more  I  think, 
the  less  I  can  conceive  where  you  picked  up  that 
style."  It  was  not  that  a  new  literary  method  had 
been  applied  in  the  writing  of  reviews,  but  that  a  new 
master  of  English  had  appeared,  whose  style  was  as 
distinct  from  that  of  all  other  essayists  as  it  was  bril- 
liant and  lofty. 

Macaulay  was  called  to  the  bar  in  1826  ;  but  he 
in  Public  never  became  prominent  as  a  lawyer.  His 
me-  public   service  was  rendered   through  litera- 

ture. He  entered  Parliament  in  1830,  and  delivered 
his  maiden  speech  on  the  bill  removing  the  Jewish  dis- 
abilities. When  he  spoke  upon  the  Reform  Bill  in 
March,  1831,  the  speaker  declared  that  he  had  never 
seen  the  house  in  such  a  state  of  excitement.  Three 
years  later  Macaulay  was  made  president  of  a  new 
law  commission  for  India  and  a  member  of  the  Supreme 
Council  of  Calcutta.  In  the  execution  of  the  duties 
connected  with  this  appointment,  he  remained  two  and 
a  half  years  in  India,  returning  in  1838.  The  results 
of  his  work  were  the  Indian  Penal  Code  and  the 
Code  of  Criminal  Procedure.  In  1859  and  1869 
these  codes  passed  into  law.  Amid  the  exactions  of 
his  work  in  India,  Macaulay  yet  found  time  for  a  vast 
amount  of  substantial  reading,  including  almost  the 
complete  body  of  Greek  and  Roman  literature.  He 
also  prepared  and  wrote  the  essay  on  Bacon.  In  1839 
he  was  once  more  in  Parliament,  was  made  Secretary 
of  War,  and  a  member  of  the  Privy  Council.  In 
party  politics  Macaulay  was  a  Whig,  a  strong  partisan, 
and  visibly  interested  in  all  questions  of  public  reform. 
As  an  orator  he  was  a  fluent  and  rapid  speaker  ;  it  was 


THE   HISTORY  OF   ENGLAND  393 

the  matter  of  his  speech,  his  vivid  language,  his  vehe- 
ment directness  of  manner,  rather  than  the  graces  of 
eloquent  utterance,  that  gave  him  power  with  an  audi- 
ence. His  public  addresses  were  carefully  prepared 
essays  ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that  as  an  essayist  he 
wrote  in  the  style  of  the  orator. 

Between  the  publication  of  the  essay  on  Milton  in 
1825,  and  that  on  Bacon  in  1837,  Macaulay  Llterary 
had  found  time  to  prepare  no  less  than  fifteen  Labors, 
notable  articles  for  the  Edinhurgh  Review,  of  which 
those  upon  Machiavelli,  Dryden,  Byron,  and  Johnson 
are,  perhaps,  most  important.  In  1840  appeared  the 
essay  on  Clive;  in  1841  that  upon  Warren  Hastings  — 
two  of  his  most  picturesque  and  eloquent  productions. 
In  these  essays  he  made  use  of  the  rich  material  gath- 
ered during  his  residence  in  India.  The  Bays  of 
Ancient  Borne  were  published  in  1842.  Stirring  and 
vivid  portrayals  of  ancient  Roman  virtue,  —  the  virtue 
that  embodied  the  idea  of  courage  and  expressed  itself 
in  acts  of  patriotic  devotion,  —  these  Bays  in  the  vigor- 
ous ballad  measure  form  no  insignificant  contribution 
to  English  verse.  They  are  in  some  degree  typical  of 
their  author's  spirit  and  character.  The  essays  upon 
Frederick  the  Great,  Madame  D^Arhlay,  Addison, 
and  Pitt  were  written  between  1842  and  1844. 

It  is,  however,  the  History  of  England  which  re- 
presents, in  its  greatest  achievement,  the  The  History 
genius  of  Macaulay.  As  early  as  1841,  of  England. 
Macaulay  had  written  to  his  friend  Napier  :  — 

"  I  have  at  last  begun  my  historical  labors  —  I  can  hardly 
say  with  how  much  interest  and  delight.  I  really  do  not 
think  there  is  in  our  literature  so  great  a  void  as  that  which 
I  am  trying  to  supply.  English  history  from  1688  to  the 
French  Revolution  is,  even  to  educated  people,  almost  a 
terra  incognita.  .  .  .  The  materials  for  an  amusing  narra- 


394         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

tive  are  immense.  I  shall  not  be  satisfied  unless  I  produce 
something  which  shall,  for  a  few  days,  supersede  the  last 
fashionable  novel  on  the  tables  of  young  ladies." 

In  the  intervals  between  other  labors  the  historian 
worked  for  ten  years,  until  in  1849  the  first  two 
volumes  appeared.  The  success  of  Macaulay's  Eng- 
land was  unprecedented.  The  first  edition  was  sold  in 
ten  days  ;  the  second,  as  soon  as  printed.  In  America 
six  different  editions  were  issued,  and  the  sales  imme- 
diately after  publication  were  estimated  at  60,000 
copies.1  In  1855  volumes  iii.  and  iv.  were  ready.  The 
work  was  translated  into  all  the  civilized  languages, 
and  the  success  of  the  earlier  volumes  was  redupli- 
cated. In  the  autumn  of  1856  part  iii.  of  the  History 
was  begun  ;  but  Macaulay  did  not  live  to  complete 
this  task.  He  carried  the  narrative  down  to  the  year 
1700,  and  this  portion  of  the  work  was  subsequently 
edited  by  his  niece,  Lady  Trevelyan,  as  volume  v. 

Macaulay's  History  is  the  most  picturesque  history 
of  England  ever  written.  Its  author  possessed  in 
rare  degree  the  "  historical  imagination,"  which  en- 
abled him  to  see,  and  then  vividly  describe,  the  scenes 
and  events  of  his  narrative.  His  wonderful  command 
of  language,  his  powers  of  description  and  narration, 
enabled  him  to  invest  details  with  all  the  attractive- 
ness of  romance.  For  the  interpretation  of  history 
Macaulay  was  unsuited  ;  he  believed  heartily  in  the 
upward  pi*ogress  of  society,  but  he  made  no  profound 
study  of  historical  movements  as  related  to  cause  and 
effect.  It  was  the  panorama  of  history  rather  than  its 
philosophy  that  he  was  qualified  to  present. 

Many  distinguished  honors  were  bestowed  upon  the 
historian,  both  at  home  and  abroad.     One  of  the  most 
highly  prized  had  been  received  in  his  election  as  Lord 
1  See  Trevelyan's  Life,  vol.  ii.  ch.  21. 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  395 

Rector  of  Glasgow  University,  in  1849.  In  1857  he 
was  raised  to  the  peerage  by  the  queen,  as-  t  Years 
suming  the  title  Baron  of  Rothley.  Failing 
health  forbade  his  active  participation  in  public  affairs, 
but  he  kept  busily  employed  at  his  History  until 
the  end.  His  death  occurred  as  he  sat  in  his  library 
at  Holly  Lodge,  Kensington.  He  was  buried  near 
Johnson  and  Addison,  in  the  Poets'  Corner  of  West- 
minster Abbey. 

The  working  period  of  Macaulay's  life  followed  that 
of  the  revolutionary  group ;  although  contemporary 
with  De  Quincey  and  Wordsworth,  there  was  nothing 
of  the  romanticist  in  his  temperament  or  his  method. 
Not  gifted  with  fancy  or  sentiment,  he  could  not  ap- 
preciate the  beauty  or  the  imaginative  power  of  their 
work.  He  moved  on  the  common  level  of  life,  was 
proud  of  the  material  advance  of  the  nation,  and 
sought  to  promote  its  material  interests.  He  was  em- 
phatically an  optimist,  and  saw  no  lesson  more  impres- 
sive than  that  of  progress  in  the  record  he  had  traced. 

The  essays  on  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  Milton,  and  Addison, 
edited  by  W.  P.  Trent,  are  included  in  Numbers  suggestions 
102,  103,  104  of  the  Riverside  Literature  Series,  *<*  study, 
and  may  very  well  be  selected  for  special  study.  Either 
the  essay  on  Clive,  or  that  on  Warren  Hastings,  should  be 
added  to  this  group.  The  essay  on  History  should  also  be 
read,  to  discover  Macaulay's  ideas  upon  historical  writing. 
In  the  reading  of  these  various  essays  appropriate  compari- 
sons between  Macaulay  and  the  earlier  essayists  will  suggest 
themselves.  The  student  should  investigate  the  occasion 
for  the  publication  of  these  essays  and  the  significance  of 
the  term  revieiv.  For  the  analysis  of  Macaulay's  style,  the 
section  upon  the  essayist  in  Minto's  English  Prose  Litera- 
ture (Ginn)  is  almost  indispensable  ;  but  even  a  superficial 
study  will  develop  Macaulay's  great  facility  in  epigram,  his 
frequent  resort  to  antithesis,  and  his  love  for  the  balanced 


396         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

structure  in  sentence  construction.  Numerous  examples  of 
these  elements  may  easily  be  found.  The  rapid,  vivacious 
movement  of  his  composition  cannot  he  overlooked. 

The  Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Macaulay  hy  his  nephew, 
G.  O.  Trevelyan,  is  the  standard  biography  ;  it  is  reviewed 
by  Gladstone  in  the  Quarterly  Review  (187G).  Macaulay 
in  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  xs  by  J.  C  Morrison. 
The  section  upon  Macaulay  in  Minto's  English  Prose 
Writers  is  the  best  general  discussion  of  his  distinctive  style 
as  a  writer. 

Unconventional,  rugged,  and  stern,  inspired  with  a 
robust    idealism   and    a    passionate    zeal   for 

Tliomis 

cariyie,  righteousness,  Thomas  Carlyle  appears  among 
1795-I88I.  t^e  essayists  of  the  Victorian  age  like  a  later 
Langland,  flinging  himself  forth  in  fierce  epics  of 
prose.  He  was,  like  Burns,  born  of  plain  Scotch 
peasant  stock.  His  father,  James  Carlyle,  a  sturdy 
stone-mason  in  the  homely  little  town  of  Ecclefechan, 
Dumfriesshire,  was  a  man  of  pronounced  individuality, 
strong-willed,  speaking  his  mind  bluntly  and  forcibly, 
and  commanding  the  wholesome  respect  of  his  neigh- 
bors. 

"  I  have  a  sacred  pride  for  my  peasant  father,"  wrote 
Thomas  Carlyle  just  after  his  father's  death,  "and  would 
not  exchange  him,  even  now,  for  any  king  known  to  me. 
Gold  and  the  guinea  stamp  —  the  Man  and  the  Clothes  of 
the  Man !  " 

His  mother  was  a  gentle,  affectionate  woman,  whose 

only  fault,  in  the  words  of  her  son,  was  "  her  being 

too  mild  and  peaceful  for  the  planet  she  lived  in." 

Carlyle  was  intended  by  his  parents  for  the  Church  ; 

so  he,  the  eldest  of    nine    sons,   was    taught 

the  rudiments  of  Latin  by  the  minister,  and, 

after  a  brief  course  in  the   high  school  at  Annan,  was 

sent  to  the  University  at   Edinburgh  —  not  quite  six- 


THOMAS  CARLYLE  397 

teen  years  old.  He  was  a  hard  student,  especially  in 
the  classics.  For  mathematics  he  showed  special  apti- 
tude, and  afterward  taught  that  science  in  the  high 
schools  of  Annan  and  Kirkcaldy.  He  was,  moreover, 
at  one  time  a  candidate  for  the  professorship  of  as- 
tronomy in  Glasgow  University.  Carlyle's  rapidly 
developing  genius  was  recognized  by  his  intimate  asso- 
ciates, and  he  soon  became  the  oracle  of  a  little  band 
of  students,  ambitious  and  poor  —  like  himself. 

The  years  following  his  graduation  were  gloomy  ones 
for  Carlyle.  His  health  was  wretched  ;  dys-  Year3  of 
pepsia,  "  gnawing  like  a  rat  at  his  stomach,"  struggle. 
had  already  begun  to  torment  him.  He  had  fallen 
into  a  great  bitterness  of  doubt  —  doubt  concerning 
the  existence  of  a  God,  doubt  in  respect  to  human 
character  —  worst  doubt  of  all,  the  doubt  of  himself. 
His  plans  for  the  ministry  were  long  since  abandoned. 
He  tried  school  teaching,  and  disliked  it  heartily.  At 
last,  with  the  necessity  of  labor  upon  him,  he  settled, 
in  1818,  at  Edinburgh,  determined  to  follow  literature, 
and  began  to  live  by  his  pen.  Such  hack-work  as  he 
could  get  he  did  ;  read  French,  Spanish,  and  Ger- 
man, especially  the  last,  and  in  1823  began  his  Life 
of  Schiller  in  the  London  Magazine  and  published  a 
translation  of  Goethe's  great  romance  Wilhelm  Meister. 
With  Coleridge  and  De  Quincey,  Carlyle  shares  the 
honor  of  introducing  English  readers  to  the  rich  store 
of  German  literature.  Finally  the  Edinburgh  student 
conquered  his  skepticism  and  emerged  into  an  atmos- 
phere of  clear  and  positive  belief. 

In  1826  Carlyle  had  married  Jane  Welsh,  a  lively, 
talented  woman,  who  had  a  genuine  taste  for  craigon- 
literature    and    a   great   admiration  for  her  Puttocl1- 
husband's  genius.     Two  years  later  they  settled  upon 
a  small  estate  belonging  to  Mrs.  Carlyle  at  Craigen- 


398         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

puttoch  ;  and  there,  for  six  years,  they  lived  a  rather 
isolated  life. 

The  necessity  for  utterance  was  upon  Carlyle,  as  well 
Sartor  as  *ue  neeessity  of  a   livelihood.     He   must 

Resartus.  speak  forth  the  thoughts  that  were  burning 
within  him  ;  but  he  must  speak  his  thought  in  his  own 
peculiar  way.  Editors  refused  to  admit  his  articles 
to  their  pages  because  of  their  singular,  apparently 
uncouth  style  ;  but  Carlyle  was  not  to  be  moved ;  he 
should  be  read  as  he  wrote,  or  not  at  all.  Thus  it  was 
not  until  1833  that  his  first  great  work,  the  Sartor 
Resartus,  after  having  been  rejected  by  several  edi- 
tors, at  last  found  a  place  in  Erasers  Magazine.  But 
once  published  this  singular  essay  began  to  attract 
attention. 

The  Sartor  Resartus  (The  Tailor  Repatched)  is  a 
remarkable  philosophy  of  clothes  —  clothes  being  re- 
garded as  the  vestitures,  or  symbols,  of  what  they  cover. 
The  sham  and  hypocrisy  of  life  arouse  the  scornful 
laughter  of  the  philosopher,  who  through  a  method 
unique  in  literature  propounds  his  ideas  of  duty  and 
preaches  his  doctrine  of  faith.  It  is  the  story  of 
Carlyle's  own  personal  struggle  with  his  doubts  that 
he  embodies  in  this  extraordinary  work ;  his  own 
philosophy  of  life  which  he  here  flashes  forth  in  brief 
and  disconnected  gleams  of  light  amid  the  obscurities 
and  complications  of  his  romantic  masquerade.  It 
is  Carlyle  himself  who  discourses  under  the  guise 
of  the  erudite  Professor  Teufelsdrbckh,  who  fills  the 
chair  of  Things-in-General  at  the  University  of  No- 
One-Knows-Where.  It  was  his  own  intense  purpose 
that  was  voiced  in  that  ringing  appeal  at  the  close  of 
the  famous  chapter  on  The  Everlasting  Yea  :  — 

"  I  too  could  now  say  to  myself :  Be  no  longer  a  Chaos, 
but  a  World,  or  even  Worldkin.     Produce  !  Produce  !  Were 


LECTURER  AND   HISTORIAN  399 

it  but  the  pitifullest  infinitesimal  fraction  of  a  Product, 
produce  it  in  God's  name  !  '  T  is  the  utmost  thou  hast  in 
thee  :  out  with  it  then.  Up,  up !  Whatsoever  thy  hand 
findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  whole  might.  Work  while  it 
is  called  To-day  ;  for  the  Night  cometh,  wherein  no  man  can 
work." 

In  spite  of  its  singular  form,  the  Sartor  Resartus 
must  be  recognized  as  one  of  the  most  stimulating  and 
impressive  books  of  the  century. 

In  1834  the  family  removed  to  Chelsea  in  the  suburbs 

of  London,  and  three  years  later  Carlyle  ap- 

,  .  e     •  1  v     t  Lecturer 

peared  in  a  course  of  six  public  lectures  upon   andmsto- 

German  literature.  A  year  later  this  was  rian- 
followed  by  a  course  of  twelve  lectures  on  the  succes- 
sive Periods  of  European  Culture  ;  and  in  1839  by  a 
series  upon  The  Revolutions  of  Modem  Europe.  The 
famous  course  On  Heroes,  Hero  Worship,  and  the  He- 
roic in  History  was  given  in  1840.  The  matter  and  the 
manner  of  these  lectures  made  a  profound  sensation  in 
literary  London.  "  It  was,"  said  Leigh  Hunt,  "  as  if 
some  Puritan  had  come  to  life  again,  liberalized  by 
German  philosophy  and  his  own  intense  reflections  and 
experiences."  The  central  thought  in  this,  one  of  Car- 
lyle's  most  characteristic  works,  is  that  "  universal  his- 
tory, the  history  of  what  man  has  accomplished  in  this 
world,  is  at  bottom  the  history  of  the  great  men  who 
have  worked  here."  In  proof  of  his  idea,  he  therefore 
treats  in  the  successive  lectures  of  (1)  the  hero  as 
divinity,  taking  Odin  for  his  type,  (2)  as  prophet, 
using  Mahomet  for  illustration,  (3)  as  poet,  with  Dante 
and  Shakespeare  for  examples,  (4)  as  priest,  making 
Luther  and  Knox  the  central  figures,  (5)  as  man  of 
letters,  finding  three  literary  heroes  in  Johnson,  Burns, 
and  Rousseau,  (6)  as  king,  Cromwell  and  Napoleon 
standing  for  the  qualities  he  exalts. 


400         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Since  his  arrival  in  London  Carlyle  had  been  busy 
upon  his  historical  studies.  In  1837  the  work  was 
completed  and  the  History  of  the  French  Revolution 
appeared.  Its  author's  fame  was  now  assured.  With 
an  extraordinary  skill  he  portrayed  the  figures  promi- 
nent in  that  struggle,  and  with  almost  appalling  real- 
ism painted  the  events  of  that  dramatic  epoch.  The 
peculiarities  of  his  style  were  not  inappropriate  to  the 
theme.  The  work  was  recognized  as  a  masterpiece  in 
its  kind. 

In  Chartism  (1839),  Past  and  Present  (1843), 
and  Latter-Day  Pamphlets  (1850),  Carlyle's 
Essaysand  criticism  of  society  grows  querulous ;  he 
Biogra-  works  upon  a  distinctly  lower  level  than  in 
his  earlier  essays.  But  Cromwell' 's  Letters 
and  Speeches  (1845)  and  the  Life  of  John  Sterling 
(1851)  are  model  biographies  and  belong  with  his  best 
works.  Finally  his  History  of  the  Life  and  T"unes  of 
Frederick,  commonly  Called  the  Great  (1858-65), 
came  as  a  fitting  climax  to  his  literary  labors. 

Just  after  delivering  his  remarkable  address  at 
Edinburgh,  upon  his  installation  as  Lord  Hector  of  the 
University,  in  April,  1866 — the  crowning  honor  of 
his  life  —  he  received  the  news  of  his  wife's  death.  By 
this  event  Carlyle  was  completely  broken  ;  although  he 
lived  until  1881,  honored  by  the  world  which  he  had 
criticised  and  often  abused,  he  produced  nothing  further 
of  importance. 

It  is,  after  all,  as  a  teacher  that  Carlyle  is  to  be  re- 
place in  garded  ;  and  as  has  been  true  of  many  another, 
Literature.  £jie  Spit-it  in  which  he  taught  and  the  manner 
of  his  teaching  have  proved  of  greater  value  to  the 
world  he  endeavored  to  instruct  than  the  mere  matter 
of  the  lessons  in  the  course.  Thomas  Carlyle  is  one  of 
the  great  original  influences  in  the  moral  life  of  his 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  401 

century.  The  stimulus  of  his  vigorous,  pitiless  pen  is 
felt  in  the  thought  and  sympathies  of  scores  of  lesser 
teachers  who,  perhaps,  have  worked  unconscious  of 
their  debt  to  him. 

Selections  from  Carlyle,  edited  by  H.  W.  Boynton  (Allyn 
&  Bacon),  contains  the  essay  on  History,  the  suggestions 
essays  on  Burns  and  BoswelVs  Johnson,  and  the  i0T  Study, 
two  lectures  on  The  Hero  as  Poet  and  The  Hero  as  Man 
of  Letters.  These  selections  will  furnish  a  good  introduc- 
tion to  Carlyle.  In  undertaking  the  study  of  Sartor  Resar- 
tus,  the  student  should  have  the  text  edited  by  Archibald 
MacMechan,  in  the  Athenaeum  Press  Series  (Ginn).  The 
ideas  advanced  in  these  essays  should  not  be  slipped  over 
without  consideration  and  discussion.  The  verbal  oddities, 
the  coinage  of  new  words,  the  grotesque  use  of  old  ones, 
should  be  noted  and  investigated  ;  striking  examples  may 
well  be  recorded  as  interesting  specimens  of  peculiar  usage. 
The  composition  of  sentences  should  be  studied,  and  the  de- 
scription of  Teufelsdrockh's  failings  in  this  regard  be  read 
in  chapter  iv.  of  Sartor  Resartus.  Carlyle's  remarkable 
imagery,  his  figures  of  speech,  will  attract  attention ;  note 
the  sources  from  which  they  are  drawn  and  the  effectiveness 
with  which  they  are  applied.  Find  illustrations  of  his  power 
in  ridicule,  in  pathos,  in  humor.  Study  the  humor  of  Car- 
lyle ;  it  is  unicpie  in  its  quality  and  its  expression.  Note  the 
extraordinary  earnestness  and  evident  sincerity  of  his  style. 
Examine  his  portraitures  of  persons,  of  their  appearance, 
their  character.  Energy  rather  than  grace  will  be  found 
to  be  a  marked  distinction  of  Carlyle. 

The  chief  biographer  of  Carlyle  is  J.  A.  Froude,  although 
Ins  taste  in  editing  the  papers  of  the  essayist  has  Brief  Bibli- 
been  severely  criticised.  The  Carlyle  in  the  Eng-  ography. 
lish  Men  of  Letters  Series  is  by  J.  Nichol ;  the  Life  in  the 
Great  Writers  Series  is  by  Richard  Garnett.  The  Remi- 
niscences of  Carlyle  himself  are  edited  by  C.  E.  Norton. 
There  are  important  essays  upon  Carlyle  by  Lowell  in  My 
Study  Windows,  by  E.  P.  Whipple  in  Essays  and  Reviews, 


402         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

by  Emerson  in  English  Traits,  and  by  Matthew  Arnold  in 
Discourses  in  America.  A  suggestive  piece  of  criticism  is 
Augustine  Birrell's  Carlyle  in  Obiter  Dicta. 

For  the  analysis  of  Carlyle's  prose  style,  see  Minto's  Eng- 
lish Prose  Writers  (Ginn). 

John  Ruskin,  third  in  this  group  of  the  great  essay- 
ists, is  in  many  aspects  of  his  work  sympa- 
Ruskin,  thetically  related  to  Carlyle.  In  the  latter 
1819-1900.  an(|  more  characteristic  period  of  his  life,  the 
resemblance  is  marked.  Both  men  spoke  boldly  on  the 
great  principles  of  human  conduct ;  both  threw  them- 
selves passionately  into  their  books.  The  style  of  each 
was  distinct,  but  there  was  a  similarity  of  temper :  the 
same  fiery  heat  of  conviction  in  their  expression,  the 
same  passion  for  truth  and  justice  in  both.  They  came 
of  the  common  stock,  and  were  proud  of  that  distinc- 
tion :  — 

"  My  mother  was  a  sailor's  daughter,  and,  please  you,  one 
of  my  aunts  was  a  baker's  wife,  the  other  a  tanner's  ;  and  I 
don't  know  much  more  about  my  family,  except  that  there 
used  to  be  a  green-grocer  of  the  name  in  a  small  shop  near 
the  Crystal  Palace," 

wrote  Ruskin  in  one  of  his  letters  to  workingmen.1 
Their  lives  wei'e  devoted  to  the  moral  education  of 

their  countrymen  ;  their  genius  was  spent  in  bringing 

their  own  idealism    to  bear    upon  the  experiences  of 

common  life. 

John  Ruskin  was  born  in  London.     His  father  was 

_   .  a  wine  merchant  who  had  grown  wealthy  in 

Boyhood  #  .  °  J 

and  Early  trade.  Upon  his  death  his  son  caused  this 
inscription,  "  He  was  an  entirely  honest 
merchant,"  to  be  placed  as  his  tribute  to  the  integrity 
of  the  man.  Ruskin's  mother  was  a  person  of  cultured 
tastes,  a  strict  disciplinarian,  vitally  interested  in  the 
education  and  moral  training  of  her  son. 

1  Fors  Clavigcra. 


JOHN   RUSKIN  403 

"  Being  always  summarily  whipped,"  he  says,  "if  I  cried, 
did  not  do  as  I  was  bid,  or  tumbled  on  the  stairs,  I  soon  at- 
tained serene  and  secure  methods  of  life  and  motion."  * 

Both  parents  were  lovers  of  good  pictures  and  good 
books  ;  and  under  favoring  conditions  the  boy  came  to 
discriminate  and  appreciate  the  best  in  literature  and 
art.  He  read  daily  with  his  mother :  on  week  days 
from  Pope's  Homer  or  the  novels  of  Scott ;  on  Sun- 
days Robinson  Crusoe  and  the  Pilgrim's  Progress. 
Evenings  his  father  was  accustomed  to  read  aloud 
from  Scott,  Shakespeare,  Byron,  or  Cervantes ;  and  to 
these  readings  he  was  privileged  to  listen.  With  the 
Bible,  more  than  with  any  other  book,  John  Ruskin 
was  made  familiar;  and  to  this  feature  of  his  early 
training  he  attributed  the  possession  of  those  qualities 
which  give  such  distinction  to  his  prose  style.  Under 
his  parents'  direction,  too,  he  grew  familiar  with  the 
beauty  of  flower  and  foliage,  the  charm  of  landscape, 
and  the  best  productions  of  creative  art.  In  summer 
excursions  the  family  traveled  through  the  most  pic- 
turesque parts  of  England  and  Scotland,  visiting  the 
points  of  principal  historic  interest,  inspecting  the  pic- 
ture galleries,  studying  both  nature  and  art  by  the  way. 
Upon  his  fourteenth  birthday  the  boy  received  from  his 
father  as  a  gift  a  copy  of  Rogers's  Italy,  illustrated 
by  Turner.  The  next  summer  he  saw  for  the  first  time 
Italy  and  the  Alps ;  this  experience  he  ever  afterward 
regarded  as  his  entrance  into  life. 

In  1836,  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  Ruskin  became  a 
student  in  Christ  Church  College,  Oxford.  Thestudont 
He  won  the  Newdigate  prize  in  the  competi-  oi  Art- 
tion  in  verse,  with  his  poem  Salsette  and  Elcplianta,  and 
contributed  to  various  magazine  articles  upon  paint- 
ing and  architecture.     In  1840  he  left  the  University 

1  Prcekrita. 


404         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

on  account  of  poor  health,  and  for  two  years  traveled 
much  upon  the  continent  and  in  England.  He  was 
able,  however,  to  receive  his  degree  in  1842.  Like 
Carlyle,  Ruskin  had  been  intended  for  the  Church  ;  but 
the  allurements  of  art  were  too  strong  to  be  ignored  ;  he 
determined  to  devote  his  life  to  study  and  criticism, 
and  followed  up  his  resolve  by  publishing  the  first  vol- 
ume of  Modem  Painters  in  1843. 

From   the   appearance  of   the  first  volume    of    this 

™^  „  ffreat  work  in  1843  until  the  publication  of 

The  Period     °  l 

of  Artcriti-  the  last  in  18G0,  John  Ruskin  was  recognized 
as  the  foremost  authority  in  art  criticism,  and 
as  a  master  of  English  composition.  His  earliest  criti- 
cism was  a  defense  of  the  methods  of  the  English 
artist,  J.  M.  W.  Turner,  whom  he  ranked  as  "  the  great- 
est painter  of  all  time."  In  the  successive  volumes  of 
Modern  Pai?it&)'S,  with  a  diction  and  style  unrivaled 
in  English  literature,  Ruskin  discussed,  not  only  the 
productions,  but  the  abstract  principles  of  art.  The 
great  lesson  that  he  taught  was  the  fundamental  impor- 
tance of  Truth.  The  main  business  of  art,  as  he 
declared,  "  is  its  service  in  the  actual  uses  of  daily 
life."  "  The  giving  of  brightness  to  pictures  is  much, 
but  the  giving  brightness  to  life,  more."  Two  other 
important  works,  together  with  several  of  relatively 
minor  importance,  belong  to  this  period  of  his  life  :  The 
Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  appeared  in  1849,  Stones 
of  Venice  in  1851-53  ;  in  both  the  writer  dwelt  strenu- 
ously upon  the  moral  aspects  of  art.  Ruskin's  intimate 
Connection  with  the  group  of  the  Pre-Raphaelites,  includ- 
ing William  Morris,  Holman  Hunt,  Rossetti,  Burne- 
Jones,  and  Sir  John  Millais,  was  emphasized  by  the 
publication  of  Pre-JRaphaelitism  in  1851.  Here  he 
defined  the  leading  principle  of  that  famous  brother- 
hood to  be  the  painting 


THE   ETHICAL   TEACHER  405 

*  of  things  as  they  probably  did  look  and  happen,  not  as,  by 
rules  of  art  developed  under  Raphael,  they  might  be  sup- 
posed gracefully,  deliriously,  or  sublimely  to  have  happened.''" 

The  year  1860  marks  a  turning-point  in  Ruskin's 
career.  The  practical  needs  of  men  now  The  Ethical 
forced  themselves,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other  Teacher, 
subjects,  upon  his  thought.  He  became  a  teacher  of 
practical  ethics,  a  political  economist,  a  student  of  socio- 
logical problems,  and  a  promulgator  of  ideas  which 
were  then  considered  radical  and  unsafe  —  doctrines 
that  aroused  hostility,  even  contempt.  Unto  this  Last 
(1860)  and  Munera  Pulveris  (1863)  were  the  works  in 
which  he  outlined  the  principles  of  his  social  science. 
The  relations  between  employer  and  employed,  the 
problem  of  wages,  the  basis  of  the  science  in  absolute 
justice,  the  real  sources  of  wealth,  the  evils  of  the  com- 
petitive system,  the  rights  of  property  —  these  and  kin- 
dred topics  were  discussed  in  a  spirit  entirely  new  to 
the  readers  of  that  time ;  it  is  a  fact,  however,  that 
almost  all  the  propositions  then  thought  so  dangerous 
to  the  interests  of  the  state  have  been  either  adopted  or 
seriously  discussed  by  the  practical  economists  of  the 
present. 

In  the  first  of  a  series  of  ninety-six  monthly  letters 
addressed  to  the  workingmen  of  England  under  the 
peculiar  title  Fors  Clavigera1  (1871-78),  Ruskin  de- 
scribes characteristically  his  personal  attitude  at  that 
time  and  the  reasons  for  it  :  — 

"  For  my  own  part,"  he  says,  "  I  will  put  up  with  this  state 

1  In  the  second  of  these  Letters  Ruskin  defines  this  enigmatical  title  : 
Fors  may  mean  Force,  Fortitude,  or  Fortune  ;  Clava,  a  Club,  Clavis,  a 
Key,  Clavus,  a  Nail;  Gero  means  I  carry.  From  these  meanings, 
therefore,  we  may  interpret  the  title  in  three  ways  :  — 

Fors,  the  Club-bearer,  means  the  strength  of  Hercules,  or  of  Deed. 

Fors,  the  Key-bearer,  means  the  strength  of  Ulysses,  or  of  Patience. 

Fors,  the  Nail-bearer,  means  the  strength  of  Lycurgus,  or  of  Law. 


406         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

of  things,  passively,  not  an  hour  longer.  I  am  not  an  unselfish 
person,  nor  an  Evangelical  one  ;  I  have  no  particular  pleasure 
in  doing  good  ;  neither  do  I  dislike  doing  it  so  much  as  to  ex- 
pect to  be  rewarded  for  it  in  another  world.  But  I  simply 
cannot  paint,  nor  read,  nor  look  at  minerals,  nor  do  anything 
rise  that  I  like,  and  the  very  light  of  the  morning  sky,  when 
there  is  any  —  which  is  seldom,  nowadays,  near  London  — 
has  become  hateful  to  me,  because  of  the  misery  that  I  know 
of,  and  see  signs  of  where  I  know  it  not,  which  no  imagina- 
tion can  interpret  too  bitterly." 

In  this  spirit,  and  with  this  determination,  he  wrote 
and  taught  throughout  the  pages  of  the  twenty-three  or 
twenty-four  books  published  during  this  second  period 
of  his  life. 

In  Sesame  and  Lilies  (1865),  his  most  popular 
Remaining  essay,  Ruskin  discourses  of  Kings'1  Treasuries 
works.  ancl  0f  Queens'1  Gardens  :  the  first  deals  with 
books  and  reading ;  the  second  with  the  education 
and  duties  of  women.  The  Crown  of  Wild  Olive 
(1866)  contains  three  lectures  on  Work,  Traffic,  and 
War.  The  Queen  of  the  Air  (1869)  is  a  study  of 
Greek  myths  of  Cloud  and  Storm.  Love's  Mcinie 
(1873)  is  a  study  of  Birds;  Proserpina  (1874)  a 
study  of  Wayside  Flowers.  In  Ethics  of  the  Dust 
(1865)  Ruskin  gives  a  series  of  charming  Lectures  to 
Little  Housewives  on  the  Elements  of  CryxtnUhation  ; 
in  Deucalion  (1876)  a  series  of  Studies  on  the  Lapse 
of  Waves  and  the  Life  of  Stones.  Several  volumes  of 
lectures  upon  art !  are  also  included  among  his  many 
works.  Finally,  in  1887,  a  most  interesting  autobiogra- 
phy, under  the  title  Prmterita,  appeared,  his  final  work. 

The  burden  of  Kuskin's  message  to  the  world  has 
been  to  open  men's  eyes  to  the  beauty  that  is  in  nature, 

1  For  the  most  part  delivered  at  Oxford,  where   Raskin    held   the 
Blade  Lectureship  on  Art. 


THEORY   IN   LIFE  407 

in  true  art,  and  in  right  life.  No  other  has  ever  ap- 
proached him,  even  among  the  poets,  in  the  de-  Theory  ^ 
scription  of  river  and  rock,  of  plant  and  leaf,  Llfe- 
of  cloud  and  sky  —  of  all  natural  phenomena  —  in  that 
imaginative  vision  which  sees  into  the  life  of  things. 
A  wave  breaking  upon  the  rocks  is  "  one  moment  a 
flint  cave  ;  the  next  a  marble  pillar ;  the  next  a  mere 
white  fleece  thickening  the  thundery  rain."  The  ser- 
pent is  "  that  running  brook  of  horror  on  the  ground," 
"that  rivulet  of  smooth  silver;"  "startle  it,  —  the 
winding  stream  will  become  a  twisted  arrow ;  the  wave 
of  poisoned  life  will  lash  through  the  grass  like  a  cast 
lance."  His  sense  of  color  is  a  revelation  :  in  describing 
the  effect  of  light  upon  an  opaque  white  mass  like  a 
cloud,  an  Alp,  or  Milan  Cathedral,  he  talks  of  amber 
tints,  of  orange,  of  rose,  of  lemon  yellows,  of  vermilion, 
of  flamingo  color,  canary ;  of  blushes  and  flames  of 
color ;  when  the  cloud  is  transparent,  then  he  speaks  of 
golden  and  ruby  colors,  of  scarlets,  of  Tyrian  crimson 
and  Byzantine  purple ;  of  full  blue  at  the  zenith,  and 
green  blue  nearer  the  horizon, 

"  the  keynote  of  the  opposition  being  vermilion  against  green 
blue,  both  of  ecmal  tone,  and  at  such  a  height  and  acme  of 
brilliancy  that  you  cannot  see  the  line  where  their  edges  pass 
into  each  other." 

To  see  these  things,  to  be  impressed  by  them,  and  to 
be  influenced  thereby  for  good :  this  is  the  purpose  of 
his  teaching.  The  first  article  subscribed  to  by  the 
members  of  St.  George's  Guild,  a  socialistic  society 
established  by  Ruskin  in  1873,  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  I  trust  in  the  living  God,  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of 
Heaven  and  Earth,  and  of  all  things  and  creatures,  visible 
and  invisible.  I  trust  in  the  kindness  of  His  law,  and  the 
goodness  of  His  work.  And  I  will  strive  to  love  Him  and 
to  keep  His  law,  and  to  see  His  work  tvhile  I  live.'" 


408         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

The  social  theories  he  had  propounded  Buskin  did 
his  best  to  realize  in  practical  experiments,  to  which  he 
devoted  the  bulk  of  his  fortune  ;  the  sympathies  to 
which  he  had  so  fervently  appealed  found  consistent 
expression  in  his  personal  relations  with  men.  He 
established  museums,  art  schools,  and  libraries,  assisted 
young  men  and  women  to  get  an  education,  organized 
movements  for  improving  the  dwellings  of  the  poor. 
His  influence  over  his  students  and  among  the  readers 
of  his  essays  has  been  very  marked.  Modern  move- 
ments in  socialistic  directions  have  embodied  many  of 
his  ideas. 

The  last  years  of  John  Ruskin's  life  were  spent  in 
retirement  upon  his  estate  of  Brantwood,  on  Lake  Con- 
iston,  in  the  country  of  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  and 
Southey ;  here  he  died,  in  his  eightieth  year,  January 
20,  1900. 

As  a  text-book  for  the  study  of  Ruskin,  the  volume  of  Se- 
Suggestions  led  ion  s  edited  by  Mrs.  L.  G.  Hufford  (Giun)  is 
lor  Study.  admirable.  A  smaller  volume,  An  Introduction 
to  the  Writings  of  John  Ruskin,  edited  by  Vida  D.  Scudder 
(Sibley  &  Ducker),  contains  briefer  passages  and  single 
paragraphs  illustrative  of  Ruskin's  peculiar  style.  The  two 
essays  of  Sesame  and  Lilies1  would  best  be  taken  as  the 
first  selections  to  be  read.  It  will  be  found  helpful  to  make 
an  outline  of  each  essay,  that  the  student  may  clearly  trace 
the  progress  of  the  thought  ami  fix  the  specific  points  main- 
tained. Notice  particularly  Ruskin's  statements  concerning 
the  motives  for  securing  an  education,  his  comments  upon 
"  books,"  how  to  read  books,  his  analysis  of  the  passage 
from  Lycidas,  the  sympathetic  attitude  toward  authors,  his 
denunciation  of  the  commercial  spirit  in  the  British  public, 
the  childishness  of  the  nation,  the  discussion  of  false  kings 
and  true,  and  the  description  of  the  ideal  library.  These 
points  are   brought  out    in    the  first  lecture  :  what  are  the 

1  Published  in  Number  1-ki  of  the  Riverside  Literature  Series. 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  STUDY  409 

links  that  logically  connect  these  successive  topics  ?  Ana- 
lyze the  second  lecture.  What  is  its  relation  to  the  first  ? 
What  is  its  final  purpose?  What  do  you  think  of  the 
part  given  to  woman  in  the  social  order?  What  use  is 
made  of  "books"  in  the  argument?  Do  you  accept  the 
statements  regarding  Shakespeare's  heroes  and  heroines  ? 
Is  it  not  odd  that  Ruskin  does  not  produce  George  Eliot 
among  his  witnesses  ?  What  is  Ruskin's  plan  for  the  educa- 
tion of  women  ?  Do  you  agree  with  him  that  women  should 
not  undertake  the  study  of  theology  ?  How  does  the  essay- 
ist differentiate  the  girl's  nature  from  the  boy's  —  woman's 
work  from  man's  ? 

The  Queen  of  the  Air  is  suggested  as  the  next  volume  for 
study.  Mrs.  Hufford's  analysis  of  the  work  will  be  found 
very  helpful  in  keeping  the  relations  of  the  various  parts 
distinct.  Notice  the  beautiful  descriptive  paragraphs  so 
numerous  in  these  essays  ;  study  the  diction  closely,  —  the 
marvelous  significance  of  words,  the  startling  effectiveness 
of  phrase.  Notice  also  the  didactic  element,  the  sermonizing 
quality,  in  the  work. 

The  three  essays  taken  from  Unto  this  Last  and  the  six 
letters  from  Fors  Clavigera  should  be  read  as  illustrating 
Ruskin's  views  upon  economic  problems.  The  Croivn  of 
Wild  Olive  should  be  read  by  every  young  man ;  Ethics  of 
the  Dust  by  every  young  woman.  Selections,  at  least,  from 
Modern  Painters  and  Stones  of  Venice  must  be  read  by  all 
who  would  know  of  Ruskin  as  the  great  word  artist  of  our 
language  and  be  familiar  with  his  famous  interpretations 
of  nature  and  art.  His  wonderful  descriptive  power,  his 
splendor  of  diction,  his  impetuous  eloquence,  are  to  be  found 
in  these  works  as  nowhere  else. 

The  authoritative  Life  of  Buskin  is  that  by  W.  G.  Col- 
lingwood  (2  vols.)  The  Ruskin  in  the  English  Brief  Bibll- 
Men  of  Letters  Series  is  by  Frederick  Harrison,  ography. 
Critical  studies  are  numerous  ;  the  following  are  most  help- 
ful :  John  Ruskin,  His  Life  and  Teaching,  by  J.  R. 
Mather  ;  The  Work  of  John  Ruskin,  by  Charles  Wald- 
etein  ;  and  John  Ruskin,  Social  Reformer,  by  J.  A.  Hobson. 


410  FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

Join)  Ruskin  (personal  reminiscences),  by  M.  H.  Spielmann, 
and  the  chapter  on  Ruskin  in  Frederick  Harrison's  Tenny- 
son, Ruskin,  and  Other  Literary  Estimates,  are  recent  and 
valuable.  A  beautifully  illustrated  article  upon  Ruskin  as 
an  Artist,  by  M.  H.  Spielmann,  in  Scribner's  Magazine  for 
December,  1898,  will  be  especially  interesting.  Critical  ar- 
ticles of  some  value  were  published  by  Julia  Wedgewood,  in 
the  Contemporary  Review,  March,  1900 ;  by  W  .  C.  Brown- 
ell,  in  Scribner's  Magazine,  April,  1900  ;  and  by  W.  P.  P. 
Longfellow,  in  the  Forum,  May,  1900.  A  bitterly  hostile 
criticism  appeared  in  Blackwood's  for  March  of  the  same 
year.  Ruskin's  picturesque  account  of  his  own  life  in  Pm- 
terita  must  not  be  overlooked. 

In  the  criticism  of  life  and  conduct,  the  essays  of 

Matthew   Arnold  hold   an    important   place. 

Arnold,        Son  of  the  famous  Arnold  of  Rugby,  a  gradu- 

1822-88.      ate  of  that  sc}100i  anci   0f  Oxford,   Matthew 

Arnold  has  won  distinction  as  an  apostle  of  Culture, 
as  a  means  of  attaining  the  ideal  type.  The  tone  of 
his  criticism  has  been  purely  intellectual,  often  super- 
cilious, and  more  likely  to  awaken  prejudice  than  popu- 
larity. The  literary  quality  of  his  work  places  him 
with  the  best  of  our  prose  writers.  His  style  is  viva- 
cious, without  enthusiasm,  terse  and  luminous.  His 
manner  is  severely  classical,  as  far  as  possible  removed 
from  the  rough  impetuosity  of  Carlyle  and  the  ornate 
eloquence  of  Macaulay  or  Ruskin.  An  undertone  of 
skepticism  and  despondency  runs  through  all  of 
Arnold's  work  ;  but  his  impartiality  of  judgment,  his 
keen,  passionless  intellect,  his  almost  infallible  taste, 
make  his  criticism  in  the  highest  degree  valuable.  His 
Essays  in  Criticism  (1865),  including  the  essay  on 
TJie  Function  of  Criticism  <d  the  Present  Time,  fur- 
nished a  model  in  this  field  of  literary  art.  Besides 
this  volume  and  a  second  series  of  Essays  in  Criticism 


WALTER  PATER  411 

(1888),  Arnold's  principal  prose  works  are  Culture 
and  Anarchy  (1869),  Literature  and  Dogma  (1873), 
and  the  Discourses  in  America  (1885). 

Matthew  Arnold  holds  high  rank,  also,  among  the 
Victorian  poets ;  his  poems  are  the  finest  expressions  of 
the  purely  classic  spirit  in  our  literature.  The  Scholar 
Gypsy,  Thyrsis  (like  Adonais,  an  elegy  upon  the  death 
of  a  poet  —  in  this  instance  Arthur  Hugh  Clough),the 
Stanzas  from  the  Grande  Chartreuse,  and  the  epic  of 
Sohrab  arid  Rustum  are  the  best  examples  of  his  verse. 

John  Henry  Newman,  author  of  the  beautiful  hymn 
Lead  Kindly  Light,  was  a  force  in  the  great  Jolm  Henry 
religious  movement  of  the  second  quarter  of  Newman, 
the  century,  known  as  the  "Oxford  Move- 
ment." With  Arnold  and  Pater,  he  is  recognized  as 
one  of  the  more  recent  masters  of  style  in  English 
prose.  His  essays,  most  of  them  controversial,  followed 
his  admission  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  1842. 
Best  known  is  his  Apologia  pro  Sua  Vita,  a  defense  of 
his  sincerity  and  a  history  of  his  religious  life. 

Like   Arnold  —  a  pronounced  classicist  in  literarj 
taste  —  Walter  Pater  stands  high  among  re-  Walter 
cent  prose  writers.     His  volume  of  literary  Pater, 

•  •    t  1839-94 

criticism,  entitled  Appreciations,  with  an 
Essay  on  Style  (1889),  suggests  a  distinct  resemblance 
to  the  critical  methods  of  Arnold.  The  Imaginary 
Portraits  (1887)  remind  us  of  Landor's  Conversa- 
tions, although  entirely  original  in  conception  and 
performance.  Pater's  most  popular  work,  Marius  the 
Epicurean,  is  a  remarkable  portraiture  of  pagan  char- 
acter. It  is  the  fictitious  biography  of  a  Roman  youth 
who,  interested  in  the  philosophies  of  his  time,  passes 
through  many  experiences  mentally  and  spiritually,  at 
last  coming  in  contact  with  the  adherents  of  the  new 
faith.      His  other  works  include  studies  of   The  Re 


412  FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

naissance,  Plato  and  Platonism,  a  series  of  Greek 
Studies,  and  a  volume  of  miscellaneous  essays.  The 
essayist  lived  a  secluded  life  largely  within  the  Uni- 
versity precincts  (he  was  a  fellow  of  Brasenose  College, 
Oxford),  devoting  himself  to  study  and  the  perfection 
of  his  exquisite  style. 

VI.    MATURITY    OF    THE     ENGLISH    NOVEL  :     DICKENS, 
THACKERAY,    GEORGE   ELIOT. 

Among  the  literary  movements  of  the  past  century 
there  is  none  more  interesting  or  more  significant  than 
that  which  had  its  climax  in  the  art  of  three  great 
novelists,  whose  common  power  in  the  delineation  of 
life  and  the  portrayal  of  character  may  well  be  taken 
as  the  highest  expression  yet  made  of  the  possibilities 
that  lie  in  the  field  of  prose  fiction.  The  evolution  of 
the  modern  novel  is  an  impressive  proof  of  our  highly 
developed  interest  in  the  problems  and  struggles  of  real 
life.  Not  only  has  this  form  of  imaginative  composi- 
tion been  employed  to  portray  manners,  temperaments, 
and  types  ;  it  has  become  in  the  hands  of  thought- 
ful men  and  women  a  valuable  instrument  for  the  illus- 
tration of  ideas  upon  every  conceivable  subject,  in  the 
fields  of  sociology,  commerce,  religion,  politics,  and 
even  of  medicine ;  until  at  the  close  of  the  old  century 
and  the  beginning  of  the  new,  the  novel  appears  as  the 
chief  form  of  literary  expression,  its  scope  bounded  only 
by  the  fundamental  principles  of  all  imaginative  art, 
and  with  a  hold  upon  the  public  interest  as  noteworthy 
as  the  wonderful  fertility  manifested  in  its  production. 

The  history  of  English  fiction  is  a  record  of  two 
contending  influences :  the  preference  for  idealization 
in  the  delineation  of  life,  and  the  preference  for  a 
faithful  report  of  close  observation  and  analysis;  the 
former   is   illustrated    in  the  methods   of    the   roman- 


JANE   AUSTEN  413 

ticists,  the  latter  in  those  of  the   realists.     While  the 
terms   romanticism   and   realism   are   some-  TieCon. 
times  rather  broadly  used,  especially  in  the   trasted 
later  classification  of  novelists,  the  two  ten- 
dencies indicated  are  generally  clear :  the  realism  of 
the  eighteenth    century    novelists    is  one    thing ;    the 
romanticism    of    Scott    is    obviously    another.       The 
method  of  each  group  is  legitimate,  and  the  work  of 
each  school  is  excellent  in  its  own  degree. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  century  there  were  not 
wanting  experiments  in  the  realistic  study  of  Frances 
life.     Indeed,    two    excellent    examples    are  Bumey, 

-  ,  ..         .         „      7.  ,^_1_os  ,     1752-1840. 

round  even  earlier  in  Evelina  (17 7 o)  and 
Cecilia  (1782),  the  work  of  Frances  Barney,  that  tal- 
ented woman  who,  as  Madame  D'Arblay,  became  the 
subject  of  one  of  Macaulay's  essays.  Both  of  these 
novels  are  bright  and  interesting  studies  of  contempo- 
rary society;  modeled  somewhat  on  Richardson's  Cla- 
rissa, and  forming  an  important  link  between  the  ear- 
lier and  the  later  novel  of  manners. 

Maria  Edgeworth  was  the  author  of  some  admirable 
Irish  tales  in  which  she  endeavored  to  por-  MarIa 
tray  the  actual  condition  of  the  Irish  pea-  Edgeworth, 

1767-1849. 

santry  as  she  had  observed  it.  Her  Castle 
Raclcrent  (1800)  and  The  Absentee  (1812)  are  the 
best  examples  of  her  work.  Three  novels  —  Leonora, 
Patronage,  Belinda  —  represent  a  serious  attempt  to 
reproduce  types  in  fashionable  life.  These  tales  were 
told  with  a  moral  purpose  in  view. 

By  far  the  most  clever  realist  of  that  day  was  Jane 
Austen,  who,  although  mockingly  referred  to 
as  " poor  little  Jane"  by  certain  critics  of  Austen, 
our  own  time,  has  nevertheless  more  than  1775"1817- 
held  her  own  with  novel  readers  even  of  the  present. 
The  life  of  this  gifted  woman  was  most  simple  and 
most  quiet.    Her  home  was  a  village  rectory  in  Hamp- 


414         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

shire  ;  her  only  dissipation  an  occasional  visit  to  the 
fashionable  watering-place,  Bath.  No  notable  incidents 
appear  to  have  broken  the  calm  current  of  her  daily 
life  ;  no  serious  romance  is  known  to  have  absorbed  her 
mind.  Quietly  as  she  lived  she  wrote.  Her  intimate 
friends  were  hardly  aware  of  her  occupation  or  her 
talent.  And  it  is  a  very  quiet  phase  of  life  that  Jane 
Austen  has  described,  although  her  art  is  strong  enough 
to  make  commonplace  scenes  appear  eventful  and  the 
commonest  characters  important.  There  had  been  no 
one  since  Fielding  and  Sterne  gifted  with  such  power 
in  the  realistic  touches  which  exhibit  character;  and 
Miss  Austen's  realism  was  more  refined  if  not  more  sub- 
tle than  theirs.  The  most  sensational  occurrence  in  her 
pages  is  an  elopement  which  ends  with  a  due  respect 
for  the  proprieties.  The  moral  purpose  is  strong  in 
Sense  and  Sensibility  (1811)  and  Pride  and  Preju- 
dice (1813),  her  most  ambitious  novels  —  the  titles  of 
which  suggest  the  lessons  they  inculcate.  Northanger 
Abbey  (1818)  is  written  in  the  spirit  of  satire,  and  the 
humorous  misadventures  of  the  romantically  inclined 
young  heroine  are  shafts  capitally  aimed  against  the 
grotesque  romances  of  the  Udolpho  type.  Miss  Aus- 
ten was  a  minute  observer :  microscopic  is  the  word 
to  be  used  of  her  method  in  observation  and  treatment. 
With  painstaking  accuracy  each  detail  of  every  pro- 
cess is  described.  Sir  Walter  paid  her  a  remarkable 
compliment :  — 

"  That  young  lady  has  a  talent  for  describing  the  involve- 
ments of  feelings  and  characters  of  ordinary  life  which  is  to 
me  the  most  wonderful  I  ever  met  with.  The  big  bow-wow 
strain  I  can  do  myself,  like  any  now  going  ;  but  the  exquisite 
touch  which  renders  ordinary  commonplace  things  and  char- 
acters interesting  from  the  truth  of  the  description  and  the 
Bentiment  is  denied  to  me." 


EDWARD   BULWER-LYTTON  415 

So  far  as  this  applies  to  Jane  Austen,  Scott's  words 
are  eminently  true.  Besides  the  works  already  men- 
tioned, Miss  Austen  wrote  also  Mansfield  Park  (1814), 
Emma  (1816),  and  Persuasion  (1818).  Pride  and 
Prejudice  is  her  ablest  novel.  These  stories  were  pub- 
lished anonymously,  and  although  the  secret  of  their 
authorship  leaked  out,  they  were  never  avowed  by  Miss 
Austen  as  her  work.  Their  real  merit  was  not  gener- 
ally appreciated  until  after  the  early  death  of  their 
author,  but  the  fame  which  came  so  tardily  shows  no 
sign  of  waning.  Next  to  Scott  there  is  no  author  of 
that  time  whose  works  are  read  with  so  much  real 
enjoyment  to-day  as  quiet,  homely,  wholesome  Jane 
Austen. 

Dominated  in  his  best  efforts  by  the  powerful  in- 
fluence of  Scott's  great  historical  romances, 
Edward  Bulwer,  Lord  Lytton,  was  the  chief  Bulwer. 
exemplar  in  that  school  of  fiction  during  the  ^l°n' 
second  quarter  of  the  century.  But  his  work 
does  not  all  of  it  represent  the  romantic  school.  A 
man  of  remarkable  versatility  and  industry,  he  pub- 
lished three  novels,  —  Pelham  (1828),  Paul  Clifford 
(1830),  and  Eugene  Aram  (1832)  ;  the  first  intro- 
duces a  hero  who  is  representative  of  high  life  and 
enters  politics  ;  the  other  two  are  studies  in  criminal 
character,  the  second  exposing  the  bad  effects  of  "  a 
vicious  prison  discipline  and  a  sanguinary  criminal 
code."  These  were  followed  by  four  historical  novels 
of  wide  popularity  and  genuine  power,  —  Tlie  Last 
Days  of  Pompeii  (1834),  Rienzi  (1835),  The  Last 
of  the  Barons  (1843),  and  Harold  (1843).  In  these 
works  Bulwer's  romanticism  is  at  its  best.  He  is  more 
serious  in  his  purpose  to  relate  history  than  is  Scott, 
less  successful  in  the  construction  of  narrative  ;  yet 
the  first  named  of  the  series  is  perhaps  the  most  widely 


416         FROM    WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

read  work  in  historical  fiction.  Somewhat  in  the  spirit 
of  Sterne,  Bulwer  produced  The  Caxtons  (1849)  and 
My  Novel  (1853),  —  two  works  dealing  with  modern 
life  in  a  semi-realistic  fashion.  It  is,  however,  as  a 
romanticist  that  Bulwer  holds  his  place  in  literature, 
a  position  reinforced  by  the  great  success  of  his  two 
romantic  dramas,  The  Lady  of  Lyons  and  Richelieu 
(1838).  In  a  third  group  of  novels  —  Zanoni  (1842), 
The  Haunted  and  the  Haunters  (1859),  and  A  Strange 
Story  (1862)  — the  romanticism  is  of  the  older  gothic 
type,  depending  upon  the  supernatural  and  occult  to 
supply  the  exciting  interest. 

The  novels  of  political  and  fashionable  life,  written 
by  Lord  Beaconsfield  between  the  years  1826 

Benjamin  .    .  OOA  J 

Disraeli,  and  1880,  were  romantic  rather  than  realistic 
1804-81.  efforts,  brilliant  but  superficial;  they  have 
never  held  a  very  high  place  among  the  serious  crea- 
tions of  imaginative  literature.  The  appearance  of 
Vivian  Grey,  the  first,  in  1826,  created  something  of 
a  sensation  among  readers,  but  its  artificial  character 
was  soon  recognized.  When  Lothair  was  published 
in  1870,  an  anonymous  reviewer  in  Blackwood's,  evi- 
dently a  political  friend  of  the  novelist,  remarked  that 
"  on  the  whole,  we  had  rather  Mr.  Gladstone  had  writ- 
ten it  "  —  Mr.  Gladstone  being  at  the  time  the  vigorous 
antagonist  of  the  party  represented  by  Disraeli  and  his 
friends. 

For  the  rest,  idealism  and  realism  mingle  in  the 
TheRealis-  broadening  current  of  later  English  fiction, 
tic  Move-  Now  and  again  the  realist  has  yielded  to  the 
fascination  of  some  romantic  motive  drawn 
from  historical  sources,  or  to  the  charm  of  a  period 
filled  with  intense  dramatic  interest ;  and  thus  we  get 
A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  or  The  Cloister  and  the 
Hearth,  a  Henry  Esmond,  an  Hypatia,  or  a  llomola. 


CHARLES   DICKENS  417 

But  the  conspicuous  tendency  of  the  English  novel, 
almost  to  the  close  of  the  century,  has  been  in  the  direc- 
tion of  a  realistic  portrayal  of  our  common  life.  The 
great  novelists  who  represent  the  best  achievements  in 
fiction  during  the  Victorian  age  are  essentially  realists 
in  purpose  and  method.  Nineteenth  century  realism 
is  an  advance  upon  that  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Not  only  has  the  field  of  observation  been  wonderfully 
extended,  but  mere  observation  has  gradually  given 
place  to  a  close,  almost  scientific  study  of  conditions  and 
types ;  the  art  of  delineation  has,  on  the  whole,  im- 
proved ;  an  honest  sympathy  has  displaced  much  shal- 
low sentiment ;  and  as  a  result  of  it  all  we  have  arrived 
at  a  clearer  and  more  truthful  account  of  society  and 
human  character,  a  more  profound  and  accurate  report 
of  life,  than  the  earlier  novelists  were  able  to  give. 

First  of  the  great  modern  novelists  to  find  inspira- 
tion in  the  material  of  everyday  affairs  was 
Charles  Dickens,  the  story  of  whose  progress  Dickens, 
toward  fame  is  as  sensational  as  that  which 
supplies  the  plot  of  any  of  his  famous  novels.     Indeed 
many  of  the  details  of  that  life,  so  wretched  and  so 
lonely  in  its  beginnings,  may  be  detected  only  half-dis- 
guised by  the  imagination  of  the  story-teller   in  the 
chapters  of  Little  Dorrit,  Cojyperfield,  Nickleby,  and 
Oliver  Twist. 

Charles    Dickens    was   born  in  a  suburb  of  Ports- 
mouth in  Hampshire,  where  his  father,  John 
Dickens,  was  a  clerk  attached  to  the  service  gie  to  suc- 
of  the  navy  yard ;  but  two  years  after  the  cess" 
birth  of  Charles  the  family  made  one  or  two  removes, 
and  were  living  in  extremely  poor  circumstances  in  a 
miserable  quarter  of  London  when  the  boy  was  about 
ten  years  old.     Readers  of  David   Cop-perjield1  will 

1  Ch.  xi. 


418         FROM    WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

recall  brief  glimpses  of  the  harsh  experiences  that  fell 
in  the  childhood  of  the  hero :  the  wretched  life  in  the 
London  streets,  the  dismal  days  of  toil  in  the  ware- 
house, the  hunger,  the  depression,  the  misery  of  the 
sensitive,  delicate  lad. 

"  When  I  had  money  enough,  I  used  to  get  half-a-pint  of 
ready  made  coffee  and  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter.  When 
I  had  none,  I  used  to  look  at  a  venison-shop  in  Fleet-street ; 
or  I  have  strolled,  at  such  a  time,  as  far  as  Covent  Garden 
Market,  and  stared  at  the  pine-apples.  ...  I  know  that  I 
worked,  from  morning  until  night,  with  common  men  and 
boys,  a  shabby  child.  I  know  that  I  lounged  about  the  streets, 
insufficiently  and  unsatisfactorily  fed.  I  know  that,  but  for 
the  mercy  of  God,  I  might  easily  have  been,  for  any  care 
that  was  taken  of  me,  a  little  robber  or  a  little  vagabond." 

The  novelist  has  in  these  lines  by  no  means  exagger- 
ated his  own  unhappy  lot.     The  humorous  account  of 
Mr.  Micawber's  financial  troubles   is  based   upon  the 
actual  and  more  serious  circumstances  of  his  own  fam- 
ily affairs.      When  Charles  was  ten,  a  succession  of 
misfortunes  culminated   in  his  father's   imprisonment 
for  debt,  and  at  that    helpless  age  the  boy,  entirely 
dependent  upon  his  own  resources,  was  thrown  a  waif 
upon  the  world.     Through  long  monotonous  days  he 
toiled  in  the  cellar  of  a  blacking  factory  on  the  river- 
side, washing  the   empty  bottles  and  pasting  labels  on 
the  filled  ones,  trudging  home  at  night,  four  miles,  to  a 
lonely  room,  —  a  lodging  destined  to  a  degree  of  fame 
somewhat  later  as  the  abiding-place  of  the  irrepressi- 
ble Bob  Sawyer,  —  and  spending  his  Sundays  with  his 
parents  inside  the  damp  walls  of  old  Marshalsea  prison. 
After  his  father's  release  things  went  a  little  better. 
Charles  was  placed  in  a  private  school  for  three  or  four 
veins,  where  he  read  all  the  novels  on  which  he  could 
lay  his  hands,  and  whence  he  emerged  in  time  to  become 


THE  NOVELS  419 

a  shorthand  reporter  at  seventeen ;  but  it  was  not  until 
he  was  twenty-two  that  he  obtained  a  permanent  posi- 
tion on  the  staff  of  a  London  newspaper.  And  now 
comes  the  story  of  the  first  literary  success,  a  story 
which  brings  us  nearer  to  the  personality  of  Dickens, 
perhaps,  than  that  of  any  other  recorded  incident  in 
his  career.  With  all  the  hopes  and  all  the  misgivings 
of  a  beginner  just  making  his  first  timid  venture  upon 
the  sea  of  literary  effort,  the  young  reporter  one  day, 
shyly  and  by  stealth,  drops  his  first  original  manuscript 
into  the  letter-box  of  a  publisher.  Upon  the  day  of 
issue  this  new  contributor  buys  a  copy  of  the  magazine 
upon  the  street.  He  scarcely  dares  to  open  the  cover. 
So  nervous  is  he  that  it  is  a  little  while  before  he  suc- 
ceeds in  finding  the  table  of  contents  ;  but  when  at  last  he 
discovers  therein  the  title  of  a  certain  sketch  by  "  Boz," 
the  sensitive,  emotional  spirit  of  the  man  is  not  to  be 
restrained ;  ashamed  to  meet  the  curious  eyes  of  the 
crowds  who  fill  the  busy  Strand,  Dickens  plunges  into 
the  nearest  doorway  to  sob  out  for  a  moment  the  emo- 
tion too  acute  to  be  concealed.  Perhaps  it  was  this 
quick  sensibility  in  the  novelist  that  brought  him  now 
and  then  so  dangerously  near  the  verge  of  sentiment 
of  a  less  wholesome  type ;  and  this  quality  it  is,  per- 
haps, which  accounts  in  part  for  the  fact  that  no  one 
of  the  great  novelists  arouses  so  strong  partisanship  as 
the  creator  of  Dombey,  David  Copperfield,  and  Little 
Nell. 

In  1836  there  appeared  the  first  of  a  series  of  hu- 
morous sketches  depicting  the  adventures  and 
misadventures  of  a  party  of  Cockney  sports- 
men.    The  illustrations  were  supplied  by  Seymour,  a 
popular  comic  draughtsman  ;  the  chapters  were  written 
by  "  Boz."  *     The  result  of  the  plan  was  the   inimit- 

1  This  pen-name,  used  by  Dickens  at   the  beginning  of  his  career, 


420         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

able  volume  of  Pickwick  Papers,  completed  in  1837. 
Then  Dickens  set  seriously  at  work.  The  first  real  novel 
was  Oliver  Twist  (1838),  a  Defoe-like  study  of  low, 
criminal  types.  Nicholas  Nickleby  followed  in  1839, 
in  which  the  material  was  drawn  from  middle-class  life. 
With  almost  unparalleled  fertility  of  creative  power, 
The  Old  Curiosity  Shoj)  and  Barnaby  Pudge  were 
completed  in  1841,  Martin  Chuzzlewit  in  1843.  The 
Christmas  Tales  appeared  in  1843,  '46,  and  '48.  Dom- 
bey  and  Son  was  finished  in  1848,  David  Coppcrfield  in 
1850.  Bleak  House  (1853),  Hard  Times  (1854),  and 
Little  Dorrit  (1857)  followed.  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities 
came  in  1859,  The  Uncommercial  Traveller  and  Great 
Expectations  in  1861,  Our  Mutual  Friend  in  1865, 
and  the  last  novel,  The  Mystery  of  Edwin  Drood,  was 
left  unfinished  by  the  author's  death.  Besides  this  list 
of  novels,  Dickens's  works  comprise  many  sketches,  the 
American  Notes,  the  Pictures  from  Italy,  and  The 
Child's  History  of  England.  At  various  times  he  was 
the  editor  of  several  periodicals,  including  a  popular 
magazine,  All  the  Year  Round.  He  traveled  consid- 
erably and  gave  many  public  readings  in  Great  Brit- 
ain and  America.  Throughout  his  life  he  took  a  deep 
interest  in  the  stage  ;  had  had  ambitions  to  be  an  actor, 
and  at  different  times  participated  in  both  private  and 
public  performances  with  great  enthusiasm  and  an 
almost  professional  success.  His  popularity  as  a  nov- 
elist was  immense ;  and  at  the  height  of  his  success 
he  died  suddenly,  falling  from  his  chair  while  still  at 
work,  worn  out  by  the  strain. 

Walter  Besant  has  called  Dickens  "  the  prophet  of 
the  middle  class."     It  was  with  the  experiences  of  this 

was  his  little  sister's  corruption  of  the  name  Moses,  which  Dickens  had 
playfully  applied  to  his  younger  brother ;  it  was  originally  borrowed 
from  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield. 


THE   PHILANTHROPIC   PURPOSE  421 

class  that  his  pages  are  stored ;  it  was  the  middle  class 
of  society  in  the  great  metropolis  of  London  character- 
that  he  knew,  although  it  was  not  always  lstlcs- 
the  London  of  his  own  era  that  he  described.  Within 
the  world  of  London  life  what  a  multitude  of  types  he 
saw  —  what  humor,  what  pathos,  what  tragedy  !  There 
is  exaggeration  everywhere  in  his  portraitures,  in  his 
sentiment,  in  his  humor,  in  his  facts ;  but  this  exaggera- 
tion is  a  legitimate  feature  of  Dickens's  method,  a  sort 
of  natural  hyperbole  which  does  not  spoil  the  reality 
of  his  creations :  it  is  the  natural  exaggeration  of  the 
artist  who  throws  the  features  of  his  subject  into  high 
relief.  His  eye  was  quick  to  see  that  one  peculiar  trait 
in  mental  or  moral  make-up  which  stamps  a  man  a 
"character."  This  oddity  of  temperament  was  as  obvi- 
ous and  insistent  as  any  eccentricity  of  motion  or  acci- 
dent of  physique  which  excites  our  pity,  our  laughter, 
or  disgust.  The  painter  of  Uriah  Heep,  of  Smike,  of 
Squeers,  of  Pickwick,  and  of  Quilp  shaded  heavily  and 
made  a  daring  use  of  color ;  but  Dickens's  characters 
are  something  more  than  mere  caricatures  of  men  and 
women  —  they  bear  all  the  marks  of  life. 

We   think   inevitably   of    Charles  Dickens   as   the 
great  representative  humorist  in  English  fic- 
tion.     The   Pickwick    Papers   excited   the  anthropic 
laughter  of  the  world  ;  the  spirit  of  comedy,  Purpose- 
if  not  of  farce,  runs  side  by  side  with  that  of  a  deeper 
sentiment  in  almost  all  his  works.     But  a  humanita- 
rian motive  is  as  clearly  evident  in  all  his  important 
novels.     The  misfortunes  of  the  poor,  the  sufferings  of 
the  oppressed,  affected  his  sympathies  profoundly.    His 
sensibility  was  touched,  his  passion  aroused,  by  any 
tale  of  abuse.     He  was  the  first  of  novelists  to  depict 
the  sorrows  of  friendless  childhood  ;  he  loved  to  create 
child  characters  like  the  little  cripple,  Tiny  Tim,  Pip 


422  FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

in  Great  Expectations,  Paul  Dombey,  and  Little  Nell. 
No  writer  has  surpassed  him  in  the  pathos  with  which 
he  describes  the  death  of  children.  Abuses  of  author- 
ity in  prisons,  in  workhouses,  the  injustice  of  the  law's 
delays,  cruelty  inflicted  upon  children  in  a  private 
school  —  these,  once  suggested,  kindled  his  imagina- 
tion into  flame  ;  indignation  has  rarely  expressed  itself 
more  hotly  than  that  which  speaks  in  the  satire  of 
Nicholas  Nichleby,  Bleak  House,  and  Oliver  Twist. 

It  was  all  real  to  the  novelist.  He  shouted  with 
laughter,  or  burst  into  tears  as  his  characters  ran  their 
predestined  course  over  the  sheets  of  manuscript  be- 
neath his  pen.  And  the  world  of  readers  wept  and 
laughed  with  him  when  the  books  were  in  their  hands. 
In  the  present  generation  something  of  the  sentiment 
has  lost  its  force  ;  but  the  position  of  Dickens  as  a 
prince  among  story-tellers  is  still  secure. 

In  1848,  the  year  in  which  Charles  Dickens,  already 
wniiam  famous,  completed  his  sixth  successful  novel, 
Thackeray  Dombey  and  Son,  another  writer,  compara- 
1811-63.  tively  unknown,  won  his  way  to  fame  as  the 
author  of  a  serial  just  finished,  —  Vanity  Fair.  Thack- 
eray was  born  at  Calcutta,  where  his  father  was  em- 
ployed in  the  civil  service  of  the  East  India  Company. 
Five  years  after  his  son's  birth  Richmond  Thackeray 
died,  and  shortly  after  the  boy  was  sent  to  England 
to  be  educated.  At  ten  he  was  placed  in  the  Char- 
terhouse School,  and  afterward  went  to  Cambridge. 
Thackeray  remained  but  two  years  at  the  University, 
and  then  began  the  study  of  law.  This  profession 
he  found  distasteful ;  he  had  a  unique  talent  for 
drawing  and  was  ambitious  to  become  an  artist.  Aban- 
doning his  law  books,  lie  finally  determined  to  go 
abroad,  and  spent  some  months  traveling  over  Europe 
studying    art    in  Paris  and    Koine.     When  a  change 


THACKERAY  423 

occurred  in  the  family  fortunes,  compelling  him  to 
begin  work  in  earnest,  Thackeray,  like  Dickens,  be- 
came a  journalist,  and  soon  found  the  path  which  led 
to  his  brilliant  literary  career. 

Thackeray  found  a  ready  reception  for  all  the  sketches 
that  he  could  write.  He  became  a  regular  unimpor- 
contributor  to  several  magazines,  and  under  taut  works 
the  name  of  Michael  Angelo  Titmarsh  he  published 
in  Fraser's  his  burlesque  of  The  Great  Hoggarty 
Diamond  and  the  narrative  of  Barry  Lyndon  —  the 
latter  a  satirical  novel  like  Fielding's  Jonathan  Wild, 
and  taking  for  its  hero  an  eighteenth  century  adven- 
turer of  the  picaresque  type.  The  Yellowplush  Pa- 
pers, Th,e  Paris  Sketch  Book,  and  The  Irish  Sketch 
Book  also  belong  to  this  early  group.  In  1842  Thack- 
eray joined  the  staff  of  Punch,  to  which  he  contributed 
Jeanies1  Diary  and  The  Book  of  Snobs.  His  chosen 
field  was  satire,  and  his  first  great  novel,  Vanity  Fair, 
revealed  his  power  as  that  of  a  master  in  the  art. 

It  was  not  the  world  of  which  Dickens  wrote  that 
we  find  described  in  Thackeray's  fictions.  In  vanity 
many  ways  the  work  of  the  latter  novelist  Fair- 
represents  a  revolt  from  the  methods  and  the  matter 
of  his  immediate  predecessors,  and  even  from  his  con- 
temporary, Dickens.  Thackeray  did  not  believe  in 
heroes  and  heroines,  nor  did  he  take  much  interest  in 
efforts  for  reform.  His  great  model  was  Fielding, 
and  there  was  no  idealization  of  the  types  he  selected 
for  portrayal.  Through  his  benignant-looking  spectacles 
his  sharp  eyes  peered  through  the  shams  and  follies  of 
the  real  society  in  which  he  moved.  Bluntly  enough  he 
told  the  story  of  Vanity  Fair,  drawing  his  pictures 
of  the  adventuresses  and  the  rogues  who  throng  its 
lanes  and  crowd  its  booths.  Like  his  master,  Field- 
ing, also,  he  frequently  appears  beside  the  stage  of  his 


424         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

little  theatre  to  moralize  upon  the  conduct  of  the 
puppets  who  perform  for  our  amusement  upon  the 
scene.  There  is  a  strong  element  of  cynicism  in  Thack- 
eray's interpretation  of  the  life  portrayed.  The  dash 
and  cunning  of  Becky  Sharp  compel  the  admiration 
that  the  respectable  but  foolish  Amelia  cannot  com- 
mand. The  coarse  brutishness  of  the  sensual  Lord 
Steyne,  the  superficial  polish  of  young  George  Os- 
borne, selfish  and  faithless,  the  hopeless  stupidity  of 
Rawdon  Crawley,  the  gluttony  and  cowardice  of  Jos. 
Sedley  —  these  portraitures,  true  enough  to  the  types, 
are  but  poorly  balanced  by  the  placid,  good-natured, 
honest  dullness  of  Dobbin  in  this  picture  of  London 
society  in  the  era  of  "Wellington  and  Waterloo. 

Vanity  Fair  was  followed  by  Pendennis  in  1848- 

ml.  «.,.  49  —  a  novel  conceived  in  the  realistic  spirit 
The  Other  r 

Great  and  frankly  modeled  upon  Tom  Jones.     In 

1852  appeared  Thackeray's  most  remarkable 
work,  Henry  Esmond  —  rather  an  historical  romance 
than  a  realistic  novel,  and  one  of  the  great  achieve- 
ments of  English  fiction.  In  pleasant  contrast  to  the 
methods  of  Vanity  Fair,  we  are  shown  the  ever  at- 
tractive qualities  of  manly  honor  and  womanly  virtue, 
mutual  affection,  devotion,  and  loyalty  —  characteristic 
of  the  heroes  and  heroines  we  cannot  but  love.  A 
peculiar  feature  of  the  book  is  its  wonderful  recon- 
struction of  eighteenth  ceutury  life  in  the  very  letter 
as  well  as  the  spirit  of  its  age.  The  style  of  autobio- 
graphic narrative,  the  form  in  which  the  work  is  cast, 
was  a  severe  test  of  its  author's  power ;  certainly  no 
other  novelist  has  achieved  so  great  a  success.  Thack- 
eray's fourth  novel,  The  JYewcomes,  was  written  in 
1853-55.  Its  tone  is  genial,  as  in  Esmond ;  and  the 
character  of  Colonel  Newcome,  a  true-hearted  English 
gentleman,  is  one  of  the  most  impressive  portraitures 


CHARLOTTE   BRONTE  ;   ELIZABETH  GASKELL     425 

in  our  literature.    The  Virginians  appeared  in  1857-58 
as  a  sequel  to  Henry  Esmond. 

In  1852  Thackeray  had  visited  America,  enjoying 
the  hospitality  of  our  own  distinguished  men  Last 
of  letters,  lecturing  upon  The  English  Hu-  Labors. 
mourists.  Again  in  1855  he  came  —  this  time  deliver- 
ing his  lectures  upon  The  Four  Georges.  He  became 
editor  of  The  Corn-hill  Magazine  in  January,  1860,  and 
contributed  his  last  minor  novels  to  that  periodical. 
As  he  grew  older  he  became  despondent.  His  health 
failed,  and  before  his  friends  were  aware  of  his  serious 
condition,  upon  Christmas  eve,  and  alone,  he  too,  like 
his  fellow  novelist  and  friend,  died,  weary  with  his 
work. 

The  mingling  of  romance  and  realism  was  exhibited 
in  the  singularly  dramatic  novel,  Jane  Eyre,   Charlotte 
which  appeared  in  1848,  while  Vanity  Fair  Bronte, 
was  still  running  through  its  monthly  parts.   Ellzal)eth 
This    book   produced    a   distinct    sensation.   Gaskeii, 
Published   under    the    pen-name    of    Currer 
Bell,  a  spirited  discussion  arose  as  to  its  authorship, 
when  it  was   discovered  to  be  the  work  of  Charlotte 
Bronte,  a  minister's    daughter    in    Yorkshire,  one    of 
three  talented  sisters,  each  of  whom  had  tried  her  hand 
at  novel-making,  not  without  success.     She  wrote  two 
other  novels,  Shirley  (1849)  and  Villette  (1853),  but 
these  fell  short  of   her   first   success.     In    Cranford 
(1853)    another  woman,    Mrs.    Gaskell,    produced   a 
purely  realistic  study  of  the  eccentricities  and  quiet 
humors  of  country  life.     She  was  also  the  author  of 
other  tales,  some   dealing   with  the  problems  of   the 
employer  and  the  employed,  others  with  the  study  of 
evil  and  its  effects.     These  stories  had  a  decided  influ- 
ence upon  the  early  work  of  George  Eliot,   and    are 
among  the  first  belonging  to  that  type  of  fiction  which 


426         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO    TENNYSON 

analyzes  motives  and  dissects  character  —  the  so-called 
psychological  novel. 

With  the  publication  of  Adam  Bede  in  1859,  George 
George  Eliot  (Mary  Ann  Evans)  took  her  place  at 
Eliot,  the  head  of  English  novelists  in  the  realistic 

school.  She  was  born  upon  a  farm  in  War- 
wickshire. Her  early  life  was  uneventful,  but  in  her 
twenty-second  year  she  passed  through  an  important 
religious  experience,  and  under  the  influence  of  the 
new  speculations  in  science  and  continental  skepticism, 
she  abandoned  her  former  evangelical  faith.  She  then 
became  identified  with  a  group  of  free-thinkers,  among 
whom  John  Stuart  Mill,  Herbert  Spencer,  and  George 
Henry  Lewes  were  prominent  leaders.  This  radical 
change  in  her  religious  views  was  momentous  in  its 
effect  upon  her  subsequent  life. 

It  was    not  until  her  thirty-eighth  year  that   Miss 

Evans  discovered  her  power  as  a  writer  of 

Her  Novels.  .  _       _  *   r         .        _  . 

stories.     In   January,  Io57,  the  first  part  or 

Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  appeared  in  Blackwood's,  and 
an  immediate  interest  was  aroused  in  the  work  of  this 
promising  new  author.  The  three  Scenes  thus  intro- 
duced comprised  The  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Reverend 
Amos  Barton,  Mr.  GiljiVs  Love-Story,  and  Janet's 
Repentance.  They  were  psychological  and  realistic. 
Adam  Bede  (1859)  met  with  a  still  greater  success. 
The  sad  story  of  the  erring  Hetty  and  the  fatal  conse- 
quences of  her  fault  was  told  with  quiet  power ;  the 
characters  of  Adam  Bede  and  Dinah  Morris  were  im- 
pressively real.  Indeed  much  of  the  material  of  this 
novel  was  taken  straight  from  nature.  An  aunt  of 
the  author  was  the  original  of  this  devoted  woman 
preacher,  and  had  really  stood  by  the  side  of  a  poor 
girl  condemned  to  death  for  the  murder  of  her  child. 
Many  of  the  traits  of  George  Eliot's  own  father  are 


GEORGE  ELIOT  427 

reproduced  in  Adam  Bede,  and  Mrs.  Poyser,  shrewd, 
sarcastic,  hard-working,  bears'  no  small  resemblance  to 
Mrs.  Evans,  a  serious,  earnest-minded  woman,  a  care- 
ful housekeeper,  and  possessed  of  a  shrewish  tongue. 

In  The  Mill  on  the  Floss  (1860)  there  are  many 
reminiscences  of  the  Warwickshire  home.  Maggie 
Tulliver  with  her  shaggy  mane  of  incorrigible  black 
hair,  her  passionate  love  for  books,  and  her  hunger  for 
affection,  is  a  picture  of  Mary  Ann  Evans  in  her  girl- 
hood. The  relations  between  Maggie  and  her  brother 
Tom  are  very  similar  to  those  existing  between  the 
real  girl  and  her  older  brother,  Isaac  Evans.  The 
humorous  accounts  of  life  as  it  runs  among  the  Tulli- 
vers,  the  Gleggs,  and  the  Pullets  had  their  inspiration 
in  well-remembered  oddities  of  countryside  society. 
George  Eliot's  most  convincing  characters  were  based 
upon  actual  observation. 

Silas  Mamer,  a  model  of  compact  art,  was  pub- 
lished in  1861,  Bomola  in  1863.  In  this  last  great 
novel,  with  its  impressive  historical  background  of  Flor- 
entine life  in  the  age  of  Savonarola,  we  have  a  stern  and 
powerful  study  of  moral  decay  in  the  character  of  Tito 
Melema,  which  becomes  the  motive  of  chief  dramatic 
interest,  rather  than  the  vivid  picture  of  fifteenth  cen- 
tury Florence  in  the  acme  of  its  pride.  In  Felix  Holt 
(1866)  the  novelist  returned  to  the  conditions  and 
problems  of  the  present.  Middlemarch,  one  of  her 
strongest  works,  dealing  with  the  moral  failures  of 
many  lives,  appeared  as  a  serial  in  1872.  Her  last  im- 
portant work,  which  fell  considerably  below  her  former 
efforts,  however,  in  convincing  force,  was  Daniel  De- 
ronda  (1876). 

George  Eliot  applied  philosophy  to  the  study  of  life 
as  no  previous  novelist  had  done.  Her  characters  were 
taken  in  the  main    from   the  common,  the  universal 


428  FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

brotherhood  of  ordinary  people,  without  exaggeration, 
without    distortion  ;    they    really    seemed  to 

The  Philo- 

sophicai  have  grown,  like  mortals.  These  characters 
Element.  ghe  i?lterpretec^  as  neither  Scott  nor  Dick- 
ens nor  Thackeray  had  attempted  to  do,  analyzing  their 
motives  of  action  and  relentlessly  depicting  the  effect 
of  every  important  act.  She  gave  a  moral  weight  to 
the  literature  of  fiction  which  added  materially  to  its 
worth.  There  is  a  heaviness  of  melancholy  vaguely 
perceptible  in  the  minor  tones  of  all  her  works ;  to  one 
familiar  with  the  story  of  her  own  life  experience  this 
seriousness  of  tone  is  comprehensible.  The  stress  of 
her  own  spiritual  struggles,  and  the  inevitable  trials  of 
her  chosen  situation,  added,  beyond  a  doubt,  to  the  in- 
telligence of  her  conceptions  and  the  intensity  of  her 
feeling,  while  the  intuitive  optimism  of  her  nature 
bade  her  proclaim  the  gospel  of  a  triumphant  perse- 
verance rather  than  the  hard  doctrine  of  despair.  Re- 
garded as  subjective  embodiments  of  wholesome  ideas, 
and  considered  technically  as  objective  pictures  of  life 
and  manners,  wherein  both  humor  and  pathos  mingle 
naturally  —  the  human  comedy  and  the  human  tragedy 
of  actual  existence  —  George  Eliot's  novels  surpass  all 
others  in  true  realism  ;  with  that  distinction  they  may 
justly  claim  the  place  of  honor  in  English  fiction. 
The  story  of  the  English  novel  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury is  bv  no  means  finished.  Each  of  the 
Anthony  J  •>  .     ,  .. 

Troiiope,       great  novelists  has  had  his  following  among 

1815-82.  ^  jesser  story-writers.  The  influence  of 
Thackeray  is  seen  in  the  work  of  Anthony  Troiiope, 
author  of  a  long  series  of  novels  depicting  the  lives  and 
fortunes  of  typical  characters  in  various  professions 
and  callings.  His  first  successful  production  was  The 
Warden  (1855)  ;  a  continuation  followed  in  Barches- 
ter  Towers  (1857).     These  two  novels,  together  wit! 


CHARLES  KINGSLEY  429 

Framley  Parsonage  (1861),  Orley  Farm,  The  Small 
House  at  Ailing  ton,  Can  you  Forgive  her,  and  The 
Last  Chronicle  of  Barset  (1867),  are  his  best  repre- 
sentative works. 

Many  of  the  characteristics  of  Dickens  are  found  in 
the  novels  of  Reade.  He  shared  the  greater  Charles 
novelist's  enthusiasm  for  the  stage,  and  was  Reade, 
the  author  of  many  plays.  His  first  serious 
effort  in  fiction,  Peg  Woffington  (1852),  has  for  its 
heroine  a  noted  eighteenth  century  actress,  celebrated 
for  her  vivacity  and  beauty  as  well  as  for  her  art. 
Charles  Reade  was  the  author  of  eighteen  novels,  sev- 
eral of  them  purpose  stories  aimed  to  arouse  sentiment 
against  various  social  wrongs.  Of  these,  It  is  Never 
too  Late  to  Mend  (1856),  Hard  Cash  (1863),  and 
Put  Yourself  in  his  Place  (1870)  are  best  known. 
His  one  historical  romance,  dealing  with  the  early 
stage  of  the  Reformation  period  in  Germany,  Tfie 
Cloister  and  the  Hearth,  belongs  with  the  masterpieces 
of  its  class. 

Chai'les  Kingsley,  an  English  clergyman,  published 
in  1849  two  earnest  books  which  exerted  a  Charles 
marked   influence  upon   the  thought    of  the  Kingsley, 

1819-76 

time.  These  were  Alton  Locke,  descriptive 
of  life  in  the  London  workshops,  and  Yeast,  a  study 
of  conditions  among  the  agricultural  laborers.  In 
1853  appeared  Hypatia,  a  fascinating  narrative  of 
the  conflict  between  Christianity  and  Greek  philoso- 
phy at  Alexandria,  about  the  beginning  of  the  fifth 
century.  His  purely  historical  romances,  Westward 
Ho!  (1855)  and  Hereward  the  Wake  (1866),  are 
vigorous  and  brilliant  pictures  of  English  life  in  the 
age  of  Elizabeth  and  the  period  of  the  Norman  Con- 
quest. In  1860  Kingsley  had  been  made  Professor 
of  Modern  History  at  the  University  of  Cambridge. 


430         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO    TENNYSON 

In  1873  he  was  appointed  Canon  of  Westminster  and 

Chaplain  to  the  Queen. 

The  influence  of  the   realistic  school  is  still  seen  in 

._.    _  the  work  of  scores  of  living  writers  who  have 

The  New  ° 

Romantic  followed  more  or  less  closely  the  methods  of 
Movement,  faeiv  predecessors.  But  at  the  very  close  of 
the  century  we  note  a  vigorous  reaction  from  the  meth- 
ods of  realistic  fiction  and  a  return  to  romance,  —  a 
movement  both  interesting  and  instructive.  It  is  the 
natural  recoil  from  one  extreme  to  the  other.  The 
old  order  changes  and  is  replaced  by  the  new.  In  this 
later  romantic  revival,  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  (1845- 
94)  has  been  the  strongest  representative.  Treasure 
Island  (1883),  Kidnapped  (1886),  The  Master  of 
Ballantrae  (1889),  and  David  Balfour  (1893)  are  all 
to  be  classed  as  narratives  of  pure  adventure.  It  is  a 
return  to  the  romance  of  Scott.  In  a  last,  uncom- 
pleted novel,  Weir  of  Hermiston,  Stevenson  left  a  work 
which  should  have  been  the  promise  of  as  great  charac- 
ter creation  as  has  ever  been  seen  in  English  fiction. 

The  methods  of  this  later  romanticism  have  gaiued 
not  a  little  from  the  experiments  of  the  realistic  school. 
The  extravagant  absurdities  of  the  old  romanticists  are 
not  likely  to  return.  On  the  other  hand,  the  realists 
have  also  something  to  learn  from  the  methods  of  ro- 
mance ;  there  is  room  for  idealism  in  all  study  of  life. 
Moreover,  there  is  an  inevitable  law  which  links  beauty 
with  truth  in  all  artistic  expression.  When  the  nov- 
elist becomes  vulgar  or  trivial  under  the  plea  of  fidelity 
to  fact,  he  degrades  literature  and  falls  short  of  the 
ideal.  There  will  follow  an  infallible  readjustment  of 
methods  which  will  introduce  a  fashion  more  true  to 
reality  and  more  in  accord  with  the  principles  and 
philosophy  of  art. 


THE   LITERARY   FIELD  431 

VII.     THE    VICTORIAN    POETS  :    BROWNING,    TENNYSON. 

When  Victoria  came  to  the  throne  of  England  in 
1837,  the  second  generation  of  nineteeth  cen-  The  Llter, 
tury  writers  was  in  full  possession  of  the  ary Field- 
stage  ;  the  majority  of  those  who  had  won  their  laurels 
during  the  early  years  of  the  century  had  passed  away, 
and  only  a  few  of  those  who  were  destined  to  make  its 
closing  years  memorable  in  literary  history  had  as  yet 
found  a  place  upon  the  scene.  Byron,  Scott,  Shelley, 
Keats,  Coleridge,  Lamb  —  all  were  dead.  Words- 
worth still  survived,  the  period  of  his  inspiration  gone ; 
in  1837  he  made  the  tour  of  Italy,  of  which  he  wrote 
Memorials  after  his  return.  Thomas  De  Quincey,  in 
his  fifty-second  year,  was  living  his  eccentric  life  in 
Edinburgh  ;  he  published  The  Revolt  of  the  Tartars  in 
1837.  It  was  the  year  in  which  Macaulay,  then  in  In- 
dia, sent  his  essay  on  Bacon  to  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
and  also  the  year  in  which  Carlyle  finished  his  great 
work  upon  The  French  Revolution  and  began  his  first 
course  of  public  lectures  in  London.  Bulwer  was  en- 
joying the  fame  brought  by  the  publication  of  The 
Last  Days  of  Pompeii  (1834)  and  Rienzi  (1835). 
Dickens  finished  Pickwick  Papers  in  1837  and  began 
Oliver  Twist  in  that  same  year.  Thackeray  was  in- 
dustriously cultivating  journalism,  writing  for  The 
Times,  contributing  The  Yellowplush  Papers  to 
Fraser^s  Magazine,  and  supplying  comic  sketches  for 
Cruikshank's  Almanack.  It  was  John  Ruskin's  first 
year  of  University  residence  ;  he  was  making  himself 
a  master  of  the  pencil,  and  writing  articles  upon  The 
Poetry  of  Architecture  for  technical  magazines.  Mary 
Ann  Evans,  just  out  of  school,  was  keeping  house  on 
her  father's  farm,  widening  her  acquaintance  with 
books,  and  strongly  evangelical  in    her  religious   be- 


432         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

liefs.  In  1837  Matthew  Arnold,  fifteen  years  of  age, 
entered  Rugby  School.  Of  the  new  poets,  Browning 
had  published  Paracelsus  in  1835  ;  Tennyson  had  al- 
ready sent  forth  his  second  volume  (1832),  including 
TJie  Millers  Daughter,  The  Lotos-Eaters,  The  Pal- 
ace of  Art,  and  The  Lady  of  Shalott  —  he  was  now 
quietly  perfecting  his  art  and  preparing  for  his  next 
public  appearance  in  1842  ;  William  Morris  was  three 
years  old;  and  1837  was  the  year  of  Swinburne's 
birth. 

The  literature  of  the  Victorian  age  compares  favor- 
ably with  that  of  any  other  epoch  in  English  history. 
Essayists,  historians,  scientists,  novelists,  and  poets 
have  together  contributed  to  the  glory  of  its  record. 
In  the  drama  alone  has  creative  genius  been  conspicu- 
ously weak  ;  but  here  the  deficiency  has,  perhaps,  been 
more  than  met  by  the  remarkable  development  in  Eng- 
lish fiction.  The  work  of  the  great  prose  writers  of 
this  era  has  been  covered  in  our  survey  ;  it  remains 
only  to  speak  of  the  great  Victorian  poets,  at  whose 
head  stand  Robert  Browning  and  Alfred  Tennyson. 

Robert  Browning  was  born  in  London  May  7,  1812. 

His  father,  a  clerk  in  the  Bank  of  England 
Robert  nc  e  l 

Browning,     for  fifty  years,  was  a  man  of  taste  in  letters 

and  art,  and  fostered  this  taste  in  his  son. 
The  poet's  mother,  a  woman  of  deeply  religious  nature, 
was  also  a  person  of  artistic  temperament  and  fond  of 
poetry.  She  was  a  romanticist ;  the  father  a  disciple 
of  Pope. 

From  the  first  Robert  Browning  was  keenly  suscep- 
tible to  the  influence  of  music,  and  a  reminis- 
cence of  the  poet's  childhood  presents  him  to 
us  a  little  white-robed  figure  indistinctly  outlined  in 
the  dusk,  stealing  from  his  bed  to  listen  to  his  mother 
who  was  playing  in  the  twilight ;  startled  by  the  rus- 


ROBERT  BROWNING  433 

tling  behind  her  she  stopped,  and  the  next  moment  the 
child  leaped  into  her  arms,  sobbing  passionately  and 
whispering,  "  Play !  Play  !  "  1  At  eight,  under  his  fa- 
ther's direction,  he  read  Pope's  Homer  with  delight ; 
but  he  soon  yielded  to  the  fascination  of  Byron's  ro- 
mantic verse,  and  when  his  mother  brought  him  copies 
of  Shelley  and  Keats,  he  entered  a  new  world  of  song ; 
then  his  true  poetic  development  began. 

Browning's  education  was  gained  in  a  private  school 
and  at  the  University  College,  London,  then  just  es- 
tablished. He  entered  in  1829,  the  year  in  which  the 
college  opened  ;  but  here  he  remained  only  for  a  term 
or  two.  He  had,  like  other  poets,  courted  the  muse  in 
much  youthful  verse  ;  and  while  a  schoolboy  at  Peck- 
ham,  was  fond  of  dreaming  away  the  summer  afternoons 
in  an  unfrequented  spot  by  three  huge  elms,  whence  he 
had  a  view  of  London  —  the  sight  of  which  powerfully 
stirred  his  imagination.  Once  he  found  his  way  to  the 
place  at  night,  and  the  ruddy  glare  of  the  city  lamps, 
glowing  above  the  blackness,  with  the  audible  murmur 
of  its  distant  streets,  aroused  in  his  mind  first  ideas  of 
the  tragic  significance  of  life.  We  know  little  else 
of  his  school  days.  He  was  studious,  contemplative, 
and  retired. 

When  Browning  was  about  twenty  years  old,  he 
planned  a  series  of  epic  narratives  which  TheDeii- 
should  depict  the  development  of  typical  nitePlan- 
souls.  He  set  himself  to  the  study  of  the  soul  life. 
This  determination  gives  us  the  key  to  his  career ;  the 
internal  drama  of  the  mind  is  the  theme  of  his  verse ; 
it  is  this  which  distinguishes  him  among  poets  as  the 

"  Subtlest  assertor  of  the  soul  in  song."  2 

1  See  Sharpe's  Life  of  Robert  Browning,  ch.  i. 

2  The  title  given  Browning-  by  his  friend  Alfred  Domett,  the  hero 
of  the  poem  Waring. 


434         FROM    WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

In  pursuance  of  his  plan  Browning-  completed,  in  1832, 
his  first  important  poem,  Pauline,  which  was  published 
through  the  generosity  of  an  aunt  the  following  year. 
The  poem  is  a  confession  of  a  youth  —  a  poet  and  a 
student  —  whose  life,  in  spite  of  dreams  of  usefulness, 
has  been  misspent.  Pauline  is  the  name  of  the  lady 
who  edits  it. 

"So  I  will  sing  on  —  fast  as  fancies  come, 
Rudely  —  the  verse  being  as  the  mood  it  paints. 


I  am  made  up  of  an  intensest  life. 

I  strip  my  mind  bare,  whose  first  elements 

I  shall  unveil.  .  .  . 

And  then  I  shall  show  how  these  elements 

Produced  my  present  state,  and  what  it  is." 

The  poem  was  crude,  obscure,  and  scarcely  understood  ; 
but  both  its  matter  and  its  manner  were  significant  of 
the  poet's  programme,  and  this  programme  he  followed 
to  the  last. 

In    1833    Browning     traveled    in    Europe,    visiting 

Russia  and  Italy.     During  1834-35  he  com- 

Paracelsus  . 

and  Sor-  posed  the  long  dramatic  poem  Paracelsus. 
dell°'  It  was  a  wonderful  production  for  a  youth  of 

twenty-two. 

"  I  go  to  prove  my  soul !  "  the  hero  cries ; 

"  I  see  my  way  as  birds  their  trackless  way. 
I  shall  arrive  !   what  time,  what  circuit  first, 
I  ask  not  :  but  unless  God  send  His  hail 
Or  blinding  fire-balls,  sleet  or  stifling  snow, 
In  some  time,  His  good  time,  I  shall  arrive  ; 
He  guides  me  and  the  bird.     In  His  good  time." 

The  general  theme  of  the  poem  may,  perhaps,  be  sug- 
gested by  the  headings  of  its  sections :  Paracelsus 
aspires  ;  Paracelsus  attains  ;  Paracelsus ;  Paracelsus 
: i spires ;  Paracelsus  attains.  There  are  many  imper- 
fections in  the  poem  and  many  beauties.  It  won  the 
poet  some  notable  friends. 


THE   SECOND   PERIOD  435 

Browning  was  already  at  work  upon  another  poem, 
but  set  that  work  aside  at  the  request  of  the  celebrated 
actor,  Macready,  for  a  play.  In  May,  1837,  the  drama 
of  Strafford  was  completed  and  presented  at  the  Covent 
Garden  Theatre.  It  proved  only  a  partial  success.  The 
great  philosophical  poem  Sordello,  thus  interrupted, 
was  not  finished  until  1840.  It  was  another  "  soul " 
poem,  the  author's  most  ambitious  effort.  It  was  much 
longer  than  Paracelsus,  more  profound,  and,  alas, 
much  more  obscure.  Several  amusing  anecdotes  are 
told  of  those  who  attempted  in  vain  to  understand  it. 
Carlyle  declared  that  his  wife  had  read  the  poem 
through  without  being  able  to  decide  whether  Sordello 
was  a  man,  a  city,  or  a  book.  Tennyson  affirmed 
that  only  two  lines  did  he  understand  —  and  they  were 
both  lies :  these  were  the  opening,  — 

"  Who  will  may  hear  Sordello's  story  told,  — 

and  the  closing,  — 

"  Who  would  has  heard  Sordello's  story  told." 

Between  the  years  1840  and  1870  Browning  pro- 
duced his  best  work.  He  had  then  emerged  The  second 
from  the  heaviness  and  abstruseness  of  the  Perlod- 
first  period  and  wrote  with  a  freshness  and  vigor  of 
style  that  gave  intense  dramatic  interest  to  the  expres- 
sion of  profoundest  thought.  In  1841  was  published 
Pippa  Passes,  a  genuine  masterpiece  of  creative  power. 
The  story  of  the  poem  is  an  episode  in  the  life  of 
Felippa,  or  Pippa,  a  little  silk-winder  from  the  factory 
in  Asolo,  an  Italian  town  in  the  Trevisan.  Upon  her 
birthday,  which  is  New  Year's  Day,  Pippa  spends  her 
unwonted  leisure  wishing  she  might  do  some  small  ser- 
vice in  the  world.  She  allows  her  childish  imagination 
to  participate  in  the  happiness  of  certain  prominent 
personages  who  are  in  the  town  —  the  happiest  of  all 


436         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

in  Asolo :  Ottiina,  illicitly  beloved  by  Sebald ;  Luigi, 
the  idol  of  his  mother ;  Phene,  that  day  to  become 
the  bride  of  the  young  artist  Jules  ;  and  Monsignor, 
who  is  to  arrive  from  Rome,  whose  happiness  must  be 
the  greatest  of  all,  because  his  is  a  spiritual  affection, 
the  sacred  passion  of  the  Holy  Church.  Thus  Pippa 
passes  through  the  city,  singing  her  blithe  song :  — 

"  God  's  in  his  heaven  — 
All 's  right  with  the  world  !  " 

until,  unconsciously,  she  becomes  a  saving  element  in 
the  soul  struggle  of  each  of  these  great  people  and  the 
instrument  of  consequences  momentous  to  herself. 

Pijypa  Passes  was  published  as  the  first  of  a  series  of 
volumes,  eight  in  all,  which  appeared  at  intervals  from 
1841  to  1846,  under  the  general  title  Bells  and  Pome- 
granates. The  series  included  the  Dramatic  Lyrics 
(1842),  the  Dramatic  Romances  and  Lyrics  (1845), 
and  five  of  Browning's  poetical  dramas,  of  which  A 
Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon  (1843)  and  Golombe's  Birth- 
day (1844),  are  the  best  known. 

In  1846  the  poet  was  married  to  Elizabeth  Barrett. 
Elizabeth  This  gifted  woman  had  already  published  two 
Barrett.  01,  three  volumes  of  song  which  had  won  ready 
recognition  by  their  worth.  She  was  an  invalid  for 
many  years,  and  at  the  time  when  her  acquaintance 
with  Robert  Browning  began  had,  apparently,  not  long 
to  live.  Her  father,  a  man  of  obstinate  and  violent 
temper,  opposed  the  friendship  strenuously ;  but  four 
months  after  their  first  meeting,  the  two  poets  were 
quietly  married  and  slipped  away  to  Italy,  where  they 
continued  to  reside  until  Mrs.  Browning's  death  in 
1861.  The  married  life  of  the  Brownings  was  ideally 
happy.  Each  was  an  inspiration  to  the  other ;  and  in 
the  new  environment  of  love  and  happiness,  health 
and  life  came  back  to  the  invalid. 


THE   RING   AND   THE   BOOK  437 

"  I  yield  the  grave  for  thy  sake,  and  exchange 
My  near  sweet  view  of  heaven  for  earth  with  thee," 

she  wrote  in  one  of  her  Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese, 
—  love  poems  written  in  their  home  at  Pisa  and,  under 
the  disguise  of  a  purely  fanciful  title,  dedicated  to  her 
husband.  They  afterward  removed  to  Florence,  where 
Mrs.  Browning  wrote  Casa  Guidi  Windows  and  Au- 
rora Leigh.  In  1849  their  son,  Robert,  was  born ; 
and  in  the  same  year  Browning's  Poetical  Works  were 
published  in  two  volumes.  In  1853-54  the  Brownings 
passed  the  winter  in  Rome.  Here  were  written  the 
poems  published  in  the  following  year  under  the  title 
Men  and  Women,  including  Era  Lippo  Lippi,  The 
Epistle  of  Karshish,  and  the  completed  version  of  Saul. 
The  volume  was  dedicated  in  a  beautiful  introductory 
lyric,  One  Word  More,  to  the  poet's  wife.  In  the 
spring  of  the  next  year  Mrs.  Browning  presented  her 
husband  with  the  first  six  books  of  Aurora  Leigh. 

During  the  five  years  following  Mrs.  Browning's 
death  in  1861,  Robert  Browning  wrote  comparatively 
little ;  yet  to  this  period  belong  some  of  the  most  not- 
able among  his  shorter  poems  :  James  Lee's  Wife,  Abt 
Vogler,  A  Death  in  the  Desert,  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra, 
and  Prospice.  In  1868-69  appeared  the  poet's  real 
masterpiece,  The  Ring  and  the  Booh.  This 
extraordinary  work,  consisting  of  some  20,000  and  the 
lines,  longer  than  the  Iliad  and  twice  as  long  00  " 
as  Paradise  Lost,  contains  the  dramatic  recital  of  a 
brutal  crime,  —  Count  Guido  Franceschini's  murder  of 
his  wife.  Out  of  this  unpromising  material  Browning 
has  constructed  a  fascinating  and  impressive  study  in 
character ;  it  is  a  drama  of  the  consequences  of  an  act, 
and  its  effect  on  the  soul.  The  story  of  the  crime  is 
told  by  nine  different  persons,  including  the  murderer, 
his  victim  (who  makes  an  ante-mortem  statement),  a 


438         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

young  priest  (who  has  been  the  friend  of  the  wife), 
the  public  prosecutor,  the  advocate,  and  the  pope  (to 
whom  appeal  is  made).  The  significance  of  the  title 
is  explained  by  its  symbolism.  A  goldsmith  in  mak- 
ing a  ring  mixes  alloy  with  the  pure  metal,  so  that  the 
gold  can  be  modeled  by  art ;  when  the  ring  is  made, 
the  alloy  is  removed  by  acid.  The  book  referred  to 
is  the  yellow-colored  text  of  evidence  submitted  in  the 
trial  of  Count  Guido  at  Rome  in  1698.  It  contains 
the  truth  of  circumstantial  fact.  Now  the  poet  will 
take  his  material  thus  discovered,  mix  fancy  with  the 
fact,  and  beat  out  in  his  own  way  the  finer  truth  which 
his  artist's  eye  discerns  — 

"  Because  it  is  the  glory  and  the  good  of  Art, 
That  Art  remains  the  one  way  possible 
Of  speaking  truth." 

Full  with  the  vivacity  and  cheeriness  of  a  vigorous 
physique,  Browning  passed  the  later  years  of 
his  life  partly  in  Venice,  partly  in  London  ; 
he  never  returned  to  Florence  after  Mrs.  Browning's 
death.  He  was  fond  of  company  ;  he  continued  active 
in  brain  and  body  to  the  end.  Of  the  fourteen  vol- 
umes of  verse  published  between  1870  and  1890,  it  is 
not  necessary  to  speak  in  detail.  His  best  poetry  be- 
longs to  the  middle  period  of  his  life.  Always  philo- 
sophical, his  philosophy  became  more  abstruse,  his 
expression  more  eccentric  in  the  later  works.  But  the 
magnificent  virility  of  his  style,  and  the  triumphant 
optimism  of  his  healthy  soul,  characterized  his  poetry 
to  the  end.  He  died  in  Venice  December  12,  1889, 
and  his  body  was  finally  laid  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Of  all  the  poets,  Browning  most  demands  a  guide.  It  has 
Suggestions  so  long  been  the  custom  to  magnify  the  "  ob- 
lor  Study.  scurity  "  of  Browning's  poetry  that  much  injustice 
has  been  done  both  the  poet  and  the  possible  reader  of  his 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR  STUDY  439 

work ;  at  the  same  time,  for  one  beginning  to  read  Brown- 
ing, some  direction  is  almost  essential.  An  especially  use- 
ful guide  is  An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Robert  Brown- 
ing's Poetry,  by  Hiram  Corson  (Heath).  Let  the  student 
read  the  introductory  essays,  particularly  that  upon  "Brown- 
ing's Obscurity,"  and  then  follow  the  order  of  the  selected 
poems  which  Professor  Coi^son  includes.  When  the  struc- 
ture of  the  dramatic  monologue  is  once  understood,  he  will 
have  no  great  difficulty  in  comprehending  the  poet.  If  one 
does  not  have  Professor  Corson's  Introduction,  he  would 
best  begin  with  the  Dramatic  Romances  and  Lyrics,  tak- 
ing the  familiar  How  they  Brought  the  Good  Neivs  from 
Ghent,  Home  Thoughts,  The  Boy  and  the  Angel,  The  Glove, 
The  Lost  Leader ;  then  The  Flight  of  the  Duchess,  The 
Italian  in  England,  and  The  Englishman  in  Italy.  Then 
let  him  take  the  volume  of  Men  and  Women  and  read  the 
two  great  "  artist  "  poems,  Era  Lippo  Lippi  and  Andrea  del 
Sarto.  These  are  both  monologues,  the  principal  person  in 
each  poem  speaking  throughout,  but  indicating  by  his  expres- 
sion the  presence  of  one  or  more  auditors  who  really  enter  into 
the  conversation  and  action  of  the  piece.  The  first  is  a  study 
of  one  of  the  early  realists  among  the  Italian  painters,  —  the 
Carmelite  monk,  shut  up  by  his  patron,  Cosimo  de'  Medici, 
and  breaking  out  of  bounds  for  an  evening's  amusement  on 
the  streets.  He  has  been  picked  up  by  the  watch  and  speaks, 
as  a  captive,  to  the  officer  in  command.  He  tells  the  story 
of  his  rather  sorry  life  and  discourses  significantly  upon  his 
art.  The  pith  of  the  poem  is  in  lines  283-315.  The  doc- 
trine expressed  in 

"  This  world  's  no  blot  for  us, 
Nor  blank ;  it  means  intensely,  and  means  good," 

is  one  often  reiterated  by  the  poet.  Andrea  del  Sarto,  one  of 
the  most  delicate  characterizations  produced  by  Browning, 
is  in  a  sense  antithetical  to  the  other  poem.  It  is  a  quiet, 
sombre,  "  twilight  "  piece.  Andrea,  "  the  faultless  painter," 
has  reached  the  full  measure  of  his  attainment  and  recog- 
nizes his  failure  to  reach  the  highest  promise  of  his  art ; 


440         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO  TENNYSON 

he  never  will  equal  Angelo  or  Raphael,  because  his  soul  has 
ceased  to  grow  ;  his  weak  moral  purpose,  his  infatuation  with 
the  faithless,  soul-less  Lucrezia,  have  robbed  him  of  the  con- 
summation that  might  have  crowned  his  effort ;  and  he  is 
willing  that  things  should  be  as  they  are.  He  also  inter- 
prets his  own  career :  — 

"  Ah,  but  a  man's  reach  should  exceed  his  grasp, 
Or  what 's  a  heaven  for  ?  " 

In  both  these  poems  Browning  exhibits  a  distinct  acquaint- 
ance with  the  technique  of  painting,  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  the  time  concerned,  as  Avell  as  profound  insight  into  human 
character.  The  Bishop  Orders  his  Tomb  at  Saint  Praxed's 
is  a  study  of  the  worldliness,  inconsistency,  and  pride,  com- 
mon enough  in  the  period  of  the  Italian  Renascence,  re- 
vealed in  the  character  of  this  hypocritical,  luxurious  old 
man,  whose  ruling  passions  are  still  strong  in  death.  The 
Epistle  of  Karshish,  the  Arab  Physician  is  one  of  the  poet's 
masterpieces  ;  note  the  delicate  touch  in  details  which  sug- 
gest the  local  color  and  atmosphere.  Karshish,  in  his  jour- 
ney, has  met  a  most  wonderful  case  ;  the  man  claims  to  have 
been  recovered  from  the  dead,  and  his  singular  behavior,  his 
apathy  and  his  enthusiasms,  have  so  wrought  upon  the  mind 
of  Karshish  that  he  must  needs  write  his  master  all  about 
it ;  he  is  half  ashamed  of  the  impression  made  upon  him, 
and  seemingly  avoids  the  real  purpose  of  his  letter  until  it 
bursts  forth  in  a  climax  of  remarkable  power.  Aside  from 
the  skill  with  which  the  entire  theme  is  developed,  the  care- 
ful study  of  the  attitude  of  Lazarus  —  one  called  again  from 
the  dead  —  is  to  be  noted.  Among  Browning's  distinctively 
religious  subjects,  the  treatment  of  the  theme  in  Saul  is  the 
most  notable  ;  poetic  inspiration  has  never  produced  any- 
thing more  impressive  than  this  conception  of  Hebrew  char- 
acter in  the  shepherd  boy  David,  his  relation  to  the  great 
first  king,  and  his  outburst  of  prophetic  song.  In  the  study 
of  Ibis  masterpiece  note  the  various  details  that  give  realism 
to  the  setting  as  regards  scenery  and  national  characteristics ; 
then  follow  the  sequence  of  events  :  what  is  the  first  effect  of 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR   STUDY  441 

David's  singing,  and  what  song  produces  that  effect  ?  Dis- 
tinguish the  themes  of  all  the  songs  —  the  effect  of  each 
upon  Saul.  Study  the  nature  of  the  climax  in  section  18. 
What  purpose  is  served  in  the  conclusion,  section  19  ?  Com- 
pare with  this  poem  the  one  entitled  A  Death  in  the  De- 
sert. Read  next  some  of  the  poems  in  Dramatis  Personoe : 
Abt  Vogler,  the  musician's  poem,  and  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,  the 
embodiment  of  much  of  Browning's  philosophy  concerning 
life.  Note  the  strong  optimistic  expression  in  all  these  poems. 
Bring  together  some  of  the  clear,  forceful  statements  of  that 
philosophy,  such  as  :  — 

"  The  best  is  yet  to  be." 

"  What  I  aspired  to  be 

And  was  not,  comforts  me." 

"  Perfect  I  call  Thy  plan  : 
Thanks  that  I  was  a  man  !  " 

"  All  good  things 
Are  ours,  nor  soul  helps  flesh  more,  now,  than  flesh  helps  soul !  " 

"  There  shall  never  be  one  lost  good !  " 

etc.  Find  similar  sentiments  in  Saul  and  note  them  in  the 
reading  of  other  poems.  Weigh  each  stanza  of  Rabbi  Ben 
Ezra  :  what  is  the  direct  teaching  of  stanzas  22,  23,  24  ? 

Having  read  the  poems  named,  and  others  in  these  vol- 
umes, take  up  Pippa  Passes  ;  then  read  one  or  two  sections 
of  The  Ring  and  the  Book,  if  interest  and  appreciation 
grow.  This  last  work  should  not  be  made  a  task ;  unless 
its  peculiarities  of  structure  and  manner  are  thoroughly  en- 
joyed, do  not  attempt  it ;  it  may  be  best  read,  if  undertaken 
leisurely,  as  an  entire  winter's  course.  There  is  a  fine  edi- 
tion, illustrated  from  photographs,  edited  by  Charlotte  Por- 
ter and  Helen  A.  Clarke  (Crowell).  Paracelsus  and  Sor- 
dello  should  not  be  read  until  one  finds  oneself  thoroughly 
in  touch  with  the  poet  and  anxious  to  extend  the  acquaint- 
ance ;  but  any  one  may  safely  look  for  the  superb  song  in 
Paracelsus,  "Over  the  sea  our  galleys  went."  In  all  reading 
of   Browning,  note   the   strong  virility   of    expression,  the 


442  FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

intensity  of  thought  and  passion,  the  insight  into  character, 
the  hearty  sympathy  with  life,  the  prominence  given  to  soul 
conflicts,  the  vigorous  dramatic  sense,  and  the  truly  wonder- 
ful scope  and  variety  shown  in  the  selection  of  material. 
How  many  different  races  are  represented  among  Browning's 
characters  ? 

The  most  convenient  short  life  of  Browning  is  that  hy 
Briei  Bibii-  William  Sharp,  in  the  Great  Writers  Series. 
ography.  The  Browning  in  the  English  Men  of  Letters 
Series  is  by  G.  K.  Chesterton.  There  is  an  extended 
biography  by  Mrs.  Sutherland  Orr  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and 
Company),  also  a  Handbook  to  the  Works  of  Broivning, 
by  the  same  author.  The  Introduction  by  Hiram  Corsor. 
(Heath)  has  been  already  mentioned  as  indispensable  to  the 
beginner.  There  are  other  introductions,  numerous  com- 
mentaries, and  essays  beyond  number.  Reference  to  E.  C. 
Stedman's  Victorian  Poets  is  recommended.  The  vivacious 
essay  by  Augustine  Birrell  in  Obiter  Dicta,  On  the  Alleged 
Obscurity  of  Mr.  Browning's  Poetry,  will  be  found  some- 
what reassuring  by  those  who  are  in  difficulty.  The  Cam- 
bridge Edition  of  Browning's  Complete  Poetic  and  Dra- 
matic Works  (Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company)  is  the  best 
edition  for  students'  use.  The  same  house  publishes  also 
the  Riverside  Edition  in  six  volumes.  Number  115  of  the 
Riverside  Literature  Series  contains  selected  short  poems. 

The  real  representative  poet  of  the  Victorian  era, 
Alfred  "  England's  voice  "  through   half  a  century, 

Tennyson,     Was  Alfred  Tennyson.    He  was  in  many  ways 

1809-92.  j  <i 

a  striking  contrast  to  his  brother  poet  Brown- 
ing. Closely  identified  with  what  pertains  to  England, 
his  interests  were  absorbed  in  her  history,  her  people, 
her  national  development,  and  her  fame.  English 
thought  is  mirrored  in  his  poetry.  He  kept  abreast 
with  the  scientific  movements  of  the  century,  was  in- 
tensely interested  in  the  discoveries  and  speculations  of 
Darwin,1  Tyndall,  Huxley,  and  Spencer,  was  attracted 

1  Charles  Robert  Darwin  (1S09-S2),  the  greatest  among  this  group 


ALFRED   TENNYSON  443 

by  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  but  firm  in  his  faith 
and  insistent  in  exalting  the  spiritual  above  the  mate- 
rial. A  conservative  in  matters  of  religion  and  politics, 
he  ever  upheld  the  cardinal  principle  of  law.  His  verse 
is  the  embodiment  of  finished  art,  sweet,  melodious,  and 
transparently  clear. 

Tennyson  was  born  in  the  little  village  of  Somersby 
in  Lincolnshire,  where  his  father  was  the  rec-  Birth  and 
tor.     In  the  Ode  to  Memory  the  poet  gives  EailyLlfe- 
us  glimpses  of  his  early  home  :  — 

"  The  seven  elms,  the  poplars  four, 
That  stand  beside  my  father's  door. 

.    the  brook  that  loves 
To  purl  o'er  matted  cress  and  ribbed  sand 
Or  dimple  in  the  dark  of  rushy  coves. 
a  sand-built  ridge 
Of  heaped  hills  that  mound  the  sea, 
Overblown  with  murmurs  harsh, 
Or  even  a  lowly  cottage  whence  we  see 
Stretch'd  wide  and  wild  the  waste  enormous  marsh" 

There  were  twelve  children  in  Somersby  rectory,  and 
the  place  has  been  compared  to  a  nest  of  song  birds ; 
two  of  Tennyson's  brothers  were  poets  and  would  have 
been  better  known,  perhaps,  if  their  talents  had  not 
been  eclipsed  by  the  genius  of  Alfred.1  In  1827  a 
little  anonymous  volume  appeared,  containing  Poems  by 
Two  Brothers  ;  these  were  by  Charles  and  Alfred  Ten- 
nyson, Alfred  being  then  about  eighteen.  The  poems 
were  largely  imitative,  but  showed  variety  and  pro- 
mise. Byron  was  naturally  the  idol  of  youthful  versifiers 
in  that  day,  and  Tennyson  did  not  escape  the  influence. 

"  I  wander  in  darkness  and  sorrow 
Unfriended  and  cold  r  nd  alone," 

of  scientific  scholars,  was  born  in  the  same  year  as  Tennyson.  His 
great  work,  On  the  Origin  of  Species,  appeared  in  1859 ;  his  Descent  of 
Man  in  1871. 

1  Frederick  Tennyson  (died  1891)  published  three  volumes  of  verse, 
Charles  Turner  (died  1879)  published  five. 


444         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

he  exclaims  with  genuine  Byronic  flavor  in  a  boyish  com- 
position ;  when  Byron  died  he  wrote  a  poem  upon  the 
event  and  carved  the  words  "  Byron  is  dead  "  upon  a 
sandstone  cliff  near  the  house. 

Tennyson  studied  in  the  grammar  school  at  Louth 
The  Early  and  spent  about  two  years  at  Trinity  Col- 
voiumes.  lege?  Cambridge,  his  father's  death  in  1831 
compelling  his  withdrawal  from  the  University.  While 
at  Cambridge  he  won  the  Chancellor's  medal  with  his 
prize  poem  Timbuctoo,  and  also  published  his  first  vol- 
ume, fifty-three  poems  in  all  —  for  the  most  part  mere 
metrical  exercises  and  studies  in  poetical  effect ;  but 
there  were  a  few  compositions  of  notable  power.  In 
one  he  describes  the  Poet  — 

1  Dower'd  with  the  hate  of  hate,  the  scorn  of  scorn, 
The  love  of  love." 

In  another  he  discourses  upon  The  Poet's  Mind. 
There  was  one  particularly  striking  composition  en- 
titled The  Deserted  House.  It  is  a  picture  of  death, 
remarkably  free  from  any  morbid  suggestions,  full  of 
quiet  power  and  calm  restraint.  But  there  was  also  an 
unfortunate  production  upon  The  Owl,  and  this  partic- 
ular effusion,  with  its  tuwhits  and  tuwhoos,  furnished 
a  congenial  text  for  a  sledgehammer  article  in  the  Ed- 
inburgh Review  by  Christopher  North,  who  always 
wrote  with  the  vim  of  a  blacksmith  on  occasions  of 
this  sort. 

"  Alfred  himself  is  the  greatest  owl,"  he  asserted  ;  "  all  he 
wants  is  to  be  shot  and  stuffed,  and  stuck  in  a  glass  case,  to 
be  made  immortal  —  in  a  museum." 

Nevertheless,  in  1832  there  appeared  a  new  volume 
of  Poems,  by  Alfred  Tennyson,  among  them  some  of 
rare  beauty,  ever  to  be  linked  with  the  poet's  fame, 
Here  were  The  Miller  s  Daughter,  (Enone,  The  Lotos- 


THE   PRINCESS  445 

Eaters,  The  Palace  of  Art,  A  Dream  of  Fair  Wo- 
men, and  The  Lady  of  Shalott.  There  was  great 
variety  as  well  as  unusual  richness  in  the  poetry  here 
presented.  "  All  in  all,"  says  Stedman,  "  a  more  ori- 
ginal and  beautiful  volume  of  poetry  was  never  added 
to  our  literature.  "  1 

Still  the  contemporary  reviews  were  unsympathetic 
and  severe.  Lockhart,  in  the  Quarterly,  ridiculed  the 
poet,  but  at  the  same  time  indicated  some  of  the  real 
weaknesses  of  the  verse.  For  the  next  decade  Tenny- 
son devoted  himself  to  the  careful  revision  of  his  poems 
and  the  conscientious  study  of  his  art.  It  was  not  until 
1842  that  he  again  published  ;  but  with  the  appearance 
of  the  two  volumes  in  that  year,  Tennyson  found  his 
place ;  from  that  time  on  he  was  recognized  as  the 
foremost  poet  of  his  age. 

In  1847  appeared  The  Princess,  a  poem  of  exqui 
site  beauty,  but  difficult  to  appreciate  unless  The 
one  notes  the  significance  of  its  sub-title,  —    Princess. 
A  Medley.     Here  is  indeed  a  combination  of  the  hu- 
morous  and   serious,   an   odd  mingling  of  the   heroic 
with  the  burlesque.     The  poem   begins  with  a  pictur- 
esque description  of  the  festival  at  Sir  Walter  Vivian's. 
Stories  of   old   ancestors  and    their   heroic  deeds  are 
read  and  told.     At  last  the  daughter,  Lilia,  vigorously 
champions  woman's    cause,    declaring   that    were    she 
some  great  princess  she  would  build  for  women, 

' '  Far  off  from  men  a  college  like  a  man's, 
And  I  would  teach  them  all  that  men  are  taught." 

Then  comes  the  proposition  to  tell  a  seven-fold  tale :  — 

"  '  Take  Lilia,  then,  for  heroine,'  clamors  one, 
'  And  make  her  some  great  princess,  six  feet  high, 
Grand,  epic,  homicidal !  '  " 

And  the  epic  of  The  Princess  follows. 

1  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman,  Victorian  Poets. 


446         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

The  poem  is  full  of  beauties ;  apt  phrases  and  strik- 
ing images  multiply  in  profuse  succession.  Tennyson's 
remarkable  gift  in  the  choice  of  suggestive  words  is 
nowhere  better  displayed  than  in  passages  like  these  :  — 

"  The  broad  ambrosial  aisles  of  lofty  lime 
Made  noise  -with  bees  and  breeze  from  end  to  end." 

"  To  them  the  doors  gave  way 
Groaning,  and  in  the  vestal  entry  shrieked 
The  virgin  marble  under  iron  heels  ;  " 

in  phrases  like  "  oily  courtesies,"  "  lucid  marbles," 
"  lapt  in  the  arms  of  leisure,"  "  the  tinsel  clink  of  com- 
pliment," "the  rotten  pales  of  prejudice,"  "the  fading 
politics  of  mortal  Rome." 

A  later  edition  of  The  Princess  was  further  enriched 
with  the  songs  which  form  the  interludes,  and  empha- 
size the  fact  that  the  real  heroine  of  the  epic  is  the 
Child.  The  serious  purpose  of  the  poem  is  found  in 
Part  VII.,  lines  243-279  :  — 

"  The  woman's  cause  is  man's  ;  they  rise  or  sink 
Together.  .  .  . 

For  -woman  is  not  undeveloped  man, 
But  diverse  ;  could  we  make  her  as  the  man, 
Sweet  Love  were  slain  ;  his  dearest  bond  is  this, 
Not  like  to  like,  but  like  in  difference. 
Yet  in  the  long  years  liker  must  they  grow  ; 
The  man  be  more  of  woman,  she  of  man." 

The  year  that  marked  the  middle  of  the  century  was 
The  Year  a  year  °f  supreme  importance  in  Tennyson's 
1850.  career.     It  was  the  year  in  which  the  poet 

married  Emily  Sellwood. 

"  Her  whose  gentle  will  has  changed  my  fate 
And  made  my  life  a  perfumed  altar-flame." 

They  had  met  thirteen  years  before  ;  but  up  to  this 
time  family  circumstances  had  prevented  the  poet 
from  establishing  a  home.  In  1850  the  poet-laureate, 
Wordsworth,  died  ;   and  in  this  year  the   honor  was 


IN  MEMORIAM  447 

conferred  upon  Tennyson.  It  was  in  1850  also  that  the 
poet  published  In  Memoriam,  by  many  regarded  as  his 
greatest  work. 

This  noble  composition  is  an  elegiac  poem,  or  rather 
series  of  poems.  The  story  it  tells  is  one  of  In  Mem0. 
private  grief  in  the  loss  of  a  personal  friend  ;  riam- 
but  in  the  development  of  his  theme  the  poet  fits  his 
application  to  the  universal  experience  of  human  sor- 
row :  his  grief  is  but  a  part  of  the  common  woe.  The 
note  of  sincerity  rings  through  it  all ;  there  is  no  false 
assumption  of  feeling,  no  empty  sermonizing.  The  de- 
jection, the  hopeless  abandonment  to  grief,  the  hesitant 
groping  after  light,  the  weakness  of  the  dawning  faith, 
the  insistency  of  doubt,  the  beneficence  of  action,  the 
brave  philosophy  of  optimism,  the  logic  of  love,  the  in- 
stinctive confidence  in  the  immortality  of  life  —  these 
are  phases  in  the  experience  of  all  humanity ;  never 
have  they  been  more  sympathetically  and  less  obtru- 
sively expressed.  The  poet  himself  declared,  "  It  is 
rather  the  cry  of  the  whole  human  race  than  mine." 
"It  is  a  very  impersonal  poem  as  well  as  personal." 
This  obvious  universality  of  In  Memoriam  is  its  most 
impressive  feature  ;  and  this  is  why  to  many  thousands 
it  has  been  in  time  of  bereavement  the  one  great  poem 
to  which  they  have  turned  for  sympathy  and  relief. 

The  immediate  occasion  of  its  composition  was  the 
death  of  Tennyson's  intimate  friend,  a  fellow  student 
with  the  poet  at  Cambridge,  Arthur  Henry  Hallam.1 
He  died  at  Vienna  in  1833.  It  will  be  seen  that  a 
long  interval  elapsed  before  In  Memoriam  appeared. 
The  poem  was  the  carefully  considered  product  of  these 
intervening  years. 

1  Concerning'  the  character  of  Hallam,  a  young  man  of  remarkable 
gifts,  see  the  account  by  Mr.  Gladstone,  reprinted  in  pamphlet  from 
The  Youth's  Companion  (Perry  Mason  and  Company). 


448         FROM  WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

In  reading  In  Memoriam,  we  need  not  expect  to  find 
a  deliberate  system  of  philosophy  elaborately  set  forth. 
The  philosophy  is  there,  but  it  is  expressed  as  the  poet 
usually  expresses  what  he  deems  the  truth :  in  gleams 
or  bursts  of  lyric  feeling,  as  a  seer  describes  the  pano- 
rama of  his  vision.  It  is  not  fitting  that  the  poet  should 
educe  an  argument  —  that  is  preliminary  ;  he  produces 
not  harmonics  but  a  harmony.  The  spiritual  experi- 
ence thus  related  covers  a  period  of  some  three  years, 
the  advent  of  three  successive  Christmas  seasons  serv- 
ing as  tide-marks  in  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  poet's 

faith  in 

"  That  God,  which  ever  lives  and  loves, 
One  God,  one  law,  one  element, 
And  one  far-off  divine  event, 
To  which  the  whole  creation  moves." 

Poetry  is  a  product  of  something  more  than  official 
The  Poet-  inspiration.  We  do  not  look  to  the  various 
Laureate,  royal  greetings  or  national  memorials,  usually, 
to  find  the  best  work  of  the  laureate.  Yet  Tennyson's 
occasional  pieces  of  this  order  are  not  unworthy  com- 
positions. The  two  addresses  To  the  Queen  are  sin- 
cere and  earnest  poems.  The  splendid  Ode  on  the 
Death  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  has  something  of  an 
official  tone,  and  this  is  one  of  the  poet's  finest  produc- 
tions. This  Ode  was  first  published  on  the  morning 
of  the  great  duke's  funeral,  September  14,  1852,  and 
was  at  first  almost  universally  depreciated.  It  was 
afterward  added  to,  and  its  true  merit  was  recognized. 
It  was  one  of  Tennyson's  own  favorites.1  The  poem 
Maud  (1855),  inspired  by  the  event  of  the  Crimean 
War,  was  received  in  much  the  same  fashion. 

1  "  Up  to  the  time  of  my  father's  death,  when  his  friends  asked  him 
to  read  aloud  from  his  own  poetry,  he  generally  chose  Maud,  the  Ode 
on  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  or  Guinevere.'1''  —  Hallam  Tenny- 
son, in  the  biography  of  his  father,  vol.  i.,  page  385. 


THE   DRAMAS  449 

The  romantic  material  found  in  the  legends  of  King 
Arthur,  and  connected  with  the  quest  of  the  TheIdylls 
Holy  Grail,  fascinated  Tennyson,  as  it  had  of  the  King. 
Spenser  and  Milton  1  and  many  poets  of  lesser  rank. 
There  had  been  indications  of  this  interest  in  several 
early  poems —  The  Lady  of  Shalott  (1832),  Sir  Gala- 
had, Sir  Launcelot  and  Queen  Guinevere,  and  Morte 
d 'Arthur  (1842)  —  before  the  laureate  actually  began 
upon  the  wonderful  series  of  epic  romances  that  com- 
prise the  Idylls  of  the  King.  There  was  no  estab- 
lished order  in  their  production.  Enid,  Vivien,  Elaine, 
and  Guinevere  appeared  in  1859  ;  The  Holy  Grail,  The 
Coming  of  Arthur,  Pelleas  and  Ettarre,  The  Passing 
of  Arthur  in  1869.  The  Last  Tournament  was  not 
published  until  1871 ;  Gareth  and  Lynette  the  year 
after.  Nor  is  there  any  definite  sequence  in  the  exqui- 
site pageantry  of  these  idylls,  other  than  the  natural 
chronology  of  the  events  involved.  Various  estimates 
have  been  placed  upon  the  work ;  but  this  glorious 
idealization  of  the  great  legendary  king,  these  impres- 
sive pictures  of  a  chivalrous  order  disorganized  and 
shattered  by  the  subtle  effects  of  secret  guilt,  will 
remain  for  most  readers  an  intensely  interesting  and 
effective  creation,  one  of  the  world  romances  in  verse. 

Tennyson  does  not  rank  among  the  great  dramatic 
poets  ;  in  power  of  individual  characterization  The 
he  is  far  inferior  to  Browning ;  at  the  same  Dramas> 
time  his  experiments  in  this  field  are  by  no  means  fail- 
ures. Three  ambitious  historical  dramas,  Queen  Mary 
(1875),  Harold  (1876),  and  Becket  (1884),  represent 
his  worthiest  attempts.  Two  of  these  plays  have  been 
produced,  and  the  last  named,  Becket,  has,  in  the  hands 
of  Sir  Henry  Irving,  met  with  no  small  degree  of  suc- 
cess.    It  is,  however,  best   appreciated   as  a  reading 

1  See  page  185. 


450         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

play.  A  lighter  drama,  The  Foresters,  was  first  pre- 
sented in  1892.  It  added  nothing  to  its  author's  fame. 
Between  1880  and  1890  several  volumes  of  poetry 
The  Close  o!  were  published,  but  Tennyson's  best  work  had 
Tennyson's  been  produced.  The  poet  varied  his  residence 
between  his  beautiful  estate  at  Farringford 
in  the  Isle  of  Wight  and  at  Aldworth  in  Surrey, 
where  he  had  established  a  summer  and  autumn  home. 
In  1884  he  accepted  a  peerage  with  the  title  of  Baron 
Tennyson  of  Aldworth,  Surrey,  and  Freshwater,  Isle 
of  Wight.  He  continued  deeply  interested  in  all 
public  questions  of  national  concern,  was  a  strong 
Conservative  in  politics,  but  believed  profoundly  in 
the  expansion  of  British  power  and  the  promotion 
of  England's  gloi'y.  Something  of  his  old-time  vigor 
was  shown  in  Demeter  and  Other  Poems,  the  last 
collection  of  poems  published  before  his  death  ;  and 
one  beautiful  lyric,  Crossing  the  Bar,  came  like  the 
fabled  swan-song,  the  poet's  final  utterance  of  hope 
and  trust. 

"Twilight  and  evening  bell, 
And  after  that  the  dark  i 
And  may  there  be  no  sadness  of  farewell, 
When  I  embark  ; 

"  For  tho'  from  out  our  bourne  of  Time  and  Place 
The  flood  may  bear  me  far, 
I  hope  to  see  my  Pilot  face  to  face 
When  I  have  crossed  the  bar."  * 

Tennyson  died  at  Aldworth  October  6,  1892.  His 
family  was  about  him.  It  was  evening ;  there  was  no 
light  but  that  of  the  full  harvest  moon  which  filled  the 
room.     Upon  his  bed  the  volume  of  Shakespeare,  from 

1  This  poem,  suggested  to  the  poet  while  crossing  the  Solent  from 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  was  designated  by  Tennyson  as  the  one  which  he 
wished  to  appear  at  the  end  of  the  volume  containing  his  completed 
work. 


SUGGESTIONS   FOR  STUDY  451 

which  he  had  been  reading,  still  lay  open  at  the  dirge 
in  Cymbeline,  — 

"  Fear  no  more  the  heat  o'  the  sun, 
Nor  the  furious  winter's  rages  ; 
Thou  thy  worldly  task  hast  done, 
Home  art  gone,  and  ta'en  thy  wages. 


Quiet  consummation  have ; 
And  renowned  be  thy  grave  !  " 

Thus  was  the  passing  of  our  last  great  English  poet ; 
his  finished  work  in  its  entirety  the  choicest  gift  to 
permanent  literature  that  the  century  had  to  offer  in 
its  close. 

In  reading  the  poetry  of  Tennyson,  its  essentially  English 
character  is  felt.  Its  source  and  inspiration  is  Sugges. 
national.  Compare  the  titles  in  the  index  of  his  tionsfor 
poems  with  the  titles  of  Browning's  poems,  or  study- 
those  of  Byron  and  Shelley,  or  any  other  nineteenth  century 
poet ;  only  Wordsworth  is  comparable  with  Tennyson  in  this 
respect.  The  poems  suggestive  of  classic  sources  —  (Enone, 
Ulysses,  Tithonus,  Tiresias,  Demeter,  Persephone,  Lucre- 
tius, —  may  well  be  studied  in  their  group,  with  reference 
to  their  classical  quality.  That  Tennyson  was  not  unsuscep- 
tible to  the  influence  of  Theocritus  and  Vergil  is  abundantly 
proved  by  the  numerous  allusions  to  those  poets  hidden  in 
his  verse  (compare  the  article  by  Maurice  Thompson  in  The 
Independent,  November  17,  1898,  and  that  by  W.  P.  Mus- 
tard in  The  American  Journal  of  Philology,  April,  May, 
and  June,  1899) .  There  is  much  in  Tennyson  that  reminds 
us  of  Keats,  much  to  suggest  the  manner  of  Wordsworth. 
Note  a  few  of  these  echoes  in  The  Day-Dream,  Amphion, 
Walking  to  the  Mail,  The  Talking  Oak,  The  Golden  Year, 
and  Edward  Gray.  Of  that  beautiful  pastoral  masterpiece, 
Dora,  Wordsworth  himself  said  :  "  Mr.  Tennyson,  I  have 
been  endeavoring  all  my  life  to  write  a  pastoral  like  your 
Dora,  and  have  not  succeeded."  x  But  these  resemblances 
are  only  echoes ;  the  style  is  truly  Tennysonian. 

1  Life  of  Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson,  by  his  son,  vol.  i.,  p.  265. 


452         FROM  WORDSWORTH  TO   TENNYSON 

Alfred  Tennyson  was  not  a  nature  poet  —  certainly  not  a 
Attitude  worshiper  of  nature  like  Wordsworth  ;  nor  was 
toward  he   the  interpreter  of   nature,  adopting  the  con- 

ventional tone  of  poets  like  Scott,  Byron,  and 
Shelley.  To  him  there  was  nothing  mystical  or  transcen- 
dental in  nature.  She  had  her  mystery  to  him  as  to  us  all ; 
he  frankly  admitted  that ;  his  fancy,  his  imagination,  did 
not  seek  to  fathom  it. 

"  Flower  in  the  crannied  wall, 
I  pluck  you  out  of  your  crannies, 
I  hold  you  here,  root  and  all,  in  my  hand, 
Little  flower  —  but  if  I  could  understand 
What  you  are,  root  and  all,  and  all  in  all, 
I  should  know  what  God  and  man  is." 

These  six  lines  express  practically  Tennyson's  nature  creed. 
In  this  connection  read  the  lines  On  a  Mourner  and  The 
Higher  Pantheism.  He  has  no  explanation  of  the  life 
which  informs ;  he  leaves  the  mystery  a  riddle,  he  confesses 
that  he  does  not  understand.  The  supernatural  element  in 
nature  Tennyson  has  no  power  to  reveal.  Yet  we  are  not 
to  suppose  that  for  lum  nature  had  no  charm.  Not  even 
Woi'dsworth  was  more  keenly  alive  to  her  beauty  or  her 
power.  All  her  forms  and  varying  phases  impressed  him 
profoundly  :  bright  colors,  play  of  light  and  shade,  the  pass- 
ing cloud,  the  gathering  storm,  the  rise  and  set  of  sun,  the 
change  of  season,  the  silence  of  the  woods,  the  blossoming  of 
flowers,  the  ripening  wheat,  the  song  and  flight  of  birds, 
the  restless  beating  of  the  sea  —  these  all  impressed  him,  but 
always  in  relation  to  human  interests,  not  of  or  for  them- 
selves alone.  His  invocation  to  "  divinest  memory,"  with  its 
Miltonic  echoes,  an  early  piece,  may  be  read  as  one  of  the 
simplest  illustrations  of  this  point.  This  Ode  to  Memory 
pictures  the  surroundings  of  the  Lincolnshire  birthplace. 
It  is  rather  as  a  student  of  nature  that  Tennyson  writes  in 
his  maturer  poems,  whether  in  descriptive  passages  or  in 
the  numerous  allusions  to  natural  phenomena  with  which 
his  compositions  are  abundantly  adorned.  While  still  a  boy 
he  was  a  keen  observer  of  the  habits  of  birds  and  beasts  and 


ATTITUDE  TOWARD  NATURE  453 

ants  and  bees.  At  one  time  he  kept  a  tame  snake  in  his 
room ;  he  liked  to  watch  its  wonderful  sinuosities  upon  the 
carpet.  In  one  of  his  private  letters  he  tells  a  friend  of  the  in- 
terest he  took  in  examining  the  embryos  of  two  little  snakes 
"  with  bolting  eyes  and  beating  hearts,"  and  wished  he  had 
had  a  microscope  to  study  them  more  minutely.  The  poet 
was  a  watcher  of  the  heavens  and  had  had  a  platform  built 
on  the  house  roof  at  Farringford,  which  was  a  favorite  resort 
for  him  at  night.  In  1857  Bayard  Taylor  visited  the  poet 
and  subsequently  described  a  walk  with  Tennyson  across  the 
island.  Taylor  says  :  "  During  the  conversation  with  which 
we  beguiled  the  way,  I  was  struck  with  the  variety  of  his 
knowledge.  Not  a  little  flower  on  the  downs  which  the 
sheep  had  spared  escaped  his  notice,  and  the  geology  of  the 
coast,  both  terrestrial  and  submarine,  was  perfectly  familiar 
to  him."  At  one  time  the  poet  began  the  compilation  of 
a  flower  dictionary.  He  bought  spy-glasses,  with  which  to 
watch  the  movements  of  birds  in  the  ilexes,  cedar  and  fir 
trees.  Geology  he  studied  in  earnest  and  trudged  on  many 
an  expedition  of  discovery  with  the  local  geologist  at  Far- 
ringford. In  the  beauty  of  nature  he  took  genuine  delight. 
He  would  walk  any  distance  to  see  a  bubbling  brook  or  a 
tree  of  unusual  stateliness  or  growth.  Sometimes  Tennyson 
was  moved  by  the  spirit  of  nature  within  him  to  go  forth 
from  the  haunts  of  men.  In  1848  he  felt  a  craving  to  make 
a  lonely  sojourn  at  Bude.  "  I  hear,"  he  said,  "  that  there 
are  larger  waves  there  than  on  any  other  part  of  the  British 
coast,  and  must  go  thither  and  be  alone  with  God."  He  was 
ever  more  profoundly  influenced  by  the  sea  than  by  any  other 
of  nature's  manifestations.  Features  in  the  landscape  that 
impressed  him,  and  the  phenomena  observed  by  him,  were 
often  reproduced  in  his  poetry.  His  son  records  a  number  of 
interesting  illustrations  of  this  fact  in  the  biography  of  his 
father.  Thus  in  the  fine  passage  in  Lancelot  and  Elaine 
beginning 

"  They  couched  their  spears  and  pricked  their  steeds,"  etc.. 

the  poet  introduces  a  simile  as  follows  :  — 


454         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

"  as  a  wild  wave  in  the  wide  North-sea 
Green-glimmering  toward  the  summit,  bears  with  all 
Its  stormy  crests  that  smoke  against  the  skies, 
Down  on  a  bark,"  etc. 

This  comparison  was  suggested  by  an  experience  during  a 
trip  to  Norway  in  1858,  described  in  his  journal  thus  in 
part :  "  One  great  wave,  green  shining,  past  with  all  its  crests 
smoking  high  up  beside  the  vessel."  The  line  in  stanza  iv. 
of  The  Daisy  — 

"  By  bays,  the  peacock's  neck  in  hue  "  — 

was  similarly  suggested  during  a  walk  in  Cornwall :  "  Walked 
seaward.  Large  crimson  clover ;  sea  purple  and  green, 
like  a  peacock' 's  neck.'" 

Descriptive  passages  should  be  studied  in  some  detail. 
Take  the  introduction  to  Enoch  Arden :  note  the  details  in 
the  first  nine  lines  ;  sketch  or  diagram  the  picture.  Compare 
the  descriptions  in  The  Dying  Swan,  The  Lotos-Eaters, 
The  Voyage  of  Maeld une,  The  Lady  of  Shalott,  The  Ara- 
bian Nights,  with  those  in  The  Gardener's  Daughter  and 
The  Miller's  Daughter.  What  difference  do  you  note  in 
these  two  groups  —  why  should  it  be  so  ?  Make  a  special 
study  of  the  nature  similes  and  the  descriptive  passages  in 
The  Princess,  noting  especially  the  remarkable  battle  nar- 
rative near  the  close  of  section  v.  Compare  with  this  last 
the  battle  scene  in  Geraint  and  Enid.  There  are  some 
wonderful  pictures  of  the  sea  scattered  through  the  poems : 
read  the  description  of  the  flood  tide  in  Sea  Dreams.  It 
might  be  interesting  to  note  what  birds  are  introduced  by 
Tennyson,  and  how  they  are  described  :  "  the  cuckoo  told 
his  name  to  all  the  hills,"  the  "  redcap  whistled,"  "  the  mel- 
low ouzel  fluted  in  the  elm,"  "  ring  sudden  scritches  of  the 
jay,"  "where  hummed  the  dropping  snipe,"  "The  lark 
could  scarce  get  out  his  notes  for  joy,  But  shook  his  song  to- 
gether," etc.  What  Jfowers  grow  most  freely  in  Tennyson's 
garden  ?  A  characteristic  allusion  which  shows  the  scien- 
tific accuracy  of  Tennyson's  manner  is  found  in  the  compari- 
son (The  Princess,  v.  187)  — 


ARTISTIC   METHODS  455 

"  Not  a  thought,  a  touch, 
But  pure  as  lines  of  green  that  streak  the  white 
Of  the  first  snowdrop's  inner  leaves." 

The  technique  of  Tennyson  should  receive  some  attention 
from  the  student ;  no  other  English  poet  lends  Artistic 
himself  so  readily  to  this  study.  Indeed,  much  Methods, 
concerning  the  art  of  poetry  may  be  learned  from  the  study 
of  Tennyson's  verse.  The  poet's  strict  and  impartial  criti- 
cism of  his  own  productions  had  its  natural  result  in  many 
directions.  Since  Pope's,  there  has  been  no  English  verse 
so  free  from  flaw.  Of  his  songs,  Tennyson  himself  thought 
the  best  to  be  :  In  the  Valley  of  Cauteretz,  Courage,  Poor 
Heart  of  Stone,  Break,  Break,  Break,  The  Bugle  Song 
{The  Princess),  Ask  me  no  More  {The  Princess),  Tears, 
Idle  Tears  {The  Princess),  and  Crossing  the  Bar.  There 
are  some  particular  lines  to  which  Tennyson  has  called 
attention  as  particularly  satisfactory  to  himself.  He  re- 
garded this  line  as  one  of  the  best  he  had  ever  written :  — 

"  Universal  ocean  softly  washing  all  her  warless  isles." 

For  simple  rhythm  he  regarded  as  most  successful  the 
verse : — 

"  Come  down,  O  Maid,  from  yonder  mountain  height." 

Take  account  of  the  consonantal  sounds  in  this  verse  and 
note  the  effect  of  these  m's  and  n's,  these  d's  and  t's.  It  is 
by  the  combination  of  sounds  and  rhythms  that  the  poet 
gains  his  effects :  the  matter  of  consonants  and  vowels, 
therefore,  is  one  of  considerable  significance  in  the  mechan- 
ics of  this  art.  Tennyson  was  exceedingly  sensitive  to  the 
unpleasant  sound  of  the  letter  s,  when  too  much  in  evidence. 
Ridding  the  line  of  this  disagreeable  sibilation,  he  called 
"  kicking  the  geese  out  of  the  boat."  "  I  never  put  s's  to- 
gether in  any  verse  of  mine,"  he  said  ;  "  my  line  is  not  as 
often  quoted, 

"  And  freedom  broadens  slowly  down," 
but 

"  And  freedom  slowly  broadens  down." 
He  considered  the  close  of  his  Tiresias  to  be  the  best  of  his 


456         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

blank  verses.  Among  his  many  beautiful  similes  he  was 
most  fond  of  that  in  Locksley  Hall:  — 

Love  took  up  the  glass  of  Time,  and  turned  it  in  his  glowing  hands, 
Every  movement,  lightly  shaken,  ran  itself  in  golden  sands. 
Love  took  up  the  harp  of  Life,  and  smote  on  all  the  chords  with  might ; 
"Smote  the  chord  of  Self,  that,  tremhling,  pass'd  in  music  out  of  sight." 

The  student  may  with  advantage  study  these  examples  in 
their  immediate  connection  and  discover  for  himself  similar 
effects  in  other  passages. 

In  the  selection  of  melodious  words  Tennyson  was  re- 
markably happy ;  many  of  his  very  early  poems,  in  which 
occur  the  frequent  repetitions  of  such  rhymes  as  shiver, 
quiver,  river;  low,  mellow ;  ambrosial,  carol;  aweary, 
dreary ;  cheerly,  clearly  ;  lispeth,  welleth,  dwelleih,  swelleth, 
etc.,  are  obvious  experiments  in  the  effect  of  sound.  With  a 
view  to  this  quality  of  the  verse,  read  The  Lady  of  Shalott, 
The  Lotos-Eaters,  the  Ode  on  Wellington,  and  such  pas- 
sages as  are  met  in  other  poems.  What  quality  in  the  words 
makes  the  verse  so  effective  in  the  songs  The  Sj>lendor  Falls 
and  Sweet  and  Low  {The  Princess),  in  the  early  Song, — 

"  The  winds  as  at  their  hour  of  hirth," 

and  in  such  lines  as  these,  in  Demeter :  — 

"  What  sound  was  dearest  in  his  native  dells  ? 
The  mellow  lin-lan-lone  of  evening  bells, 
Far-far-away." 
Tennyson  is  a  master  of  concise  phrasing.     A  dreamer 
sees  a  tiny  fleet  of  glass  wrecked  on  a  golden  reef :  — 

"The  little  fleet 
Touch'd,  clink'd,  and  clash' d,  and  vanish' d." 

(Sea  Dreams.) 
"  He  makes  no  friends  who  never  made  a  foe." 
"  Then  trust  me  not  at  all,  or  all  in  all." 
"  His  honor  rooted  in  dishonor  stood, 
And  faith  unfaithful  kept  him  falsely  true." 

(Lancelot  and  Elaine.) 

The  imagery  of  Tennyson's  poetry  is  perfect.     There  is 
no  straining  of  comparisons,  no  mixing  of  meta- 
Imagery.       ^]lorg     rpne  p0et's  perfected  judgment  was  author- 
itative.    Simple,  pure,  flawless,  they  may  well  be  described 


PORTRAYAL  OF  CHARACTER       457 

by  that  splendid  figure  of  the  laureate's  own  coinage,  as 

"  Jewels  five-words-long 
That  on  the  stretch'd  forefinger  of  all  Time 
Sparkle  forever." 

(The  Princess,  ii.  351.) 

Was  there  ever  a  comparison  more  faultless  than  this  ?  — 

"  Music  that  gentlier  on  the  spirit  lies 
Than  tired  eyelids  upon  tired  eyes." 

(The  Lotos-Eaters.) 

The  poet's  name  will  be  always  associated  with  what  ie 
called  the  In  Memoriam  stanza,  an  arrangement 
skillfully  used  by  him.  This  measure  he  thought 
to  have  been  originated  by  himself,  until  told  that  it  had 
been  used  both  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  by  Ben  Jonson. 
It  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  purpose  of  the  elegy.  Tenny- 
son employs  great  variety  in  metrical  forms ;  but  further  than 
recognizing  this  variety  and  the  special  fitness  to  the  theme 
of  the  various  arrangements,  it  is  hardly  necessary  for  the 
student  to  go.  It  will  be  sufficient  if  he  attains  a  clearer 
perception  and  more  intelligent  enjoyment  of  the  broader 
yet  delicate  effects  of  rhythm  and  tone  which  constitute  the 
real  music  of  the  poet's  song. 

Of  the  dramas,  the  student  would  best  take  Becket  for 
his  study,  noting  the  artistic  effect  of  the  Prologue,   Portrayal 
with  its  significant  game  of  chess,  the  self-revela-  of  Charao- 
tion  of  Henry's  impulsive,  irresponsible  character, 
the  strength  of  Eleanor,  and  the  calm,  conscientious,  master- 
ful spirit  of  Becket.     Follow  the  development  of  the  action, 
noting  the  special  dramatic  moments  in  Becket's  career,  such 
as  the  scene  with  Fitzurse,  with  Rosamund  (Act  I.,  scene  1), 
with  the  prelates  (Act  I.,  scene  3),  the  scene  of  Becket's 
temporary  triumph  (Act  II.,  scene  2),  the  moment  of  his 
final  resolve  at  the  close  of  Act  III.  (the  climax),  and  the 
murder  of  the  archbishop  in  the  cathedral  (Act  V.,  scene  3). 
Act  IV.,  in  which  Eleanor  and  Rosamund  meet,  is  worthy 
of  special  attention  —  an  incident  of  remarkable  dramatic 
intensity  and  interest.     Tennyson,  like  Browning,  made  use 
of  the  dramatic  monologue.     His  success  with  this  form  of 


458         FROM  WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

composition  should  be  noted.  Ulysses  is  a  good  example, 
also  St.  Simeon,  Stylites ;  note  the  first  as  an  example  of 
classic  characterization,  the  second  as  a  study  of  medie- 
valism. Great  dramatic  force  is  attained  in  The  First 
Quarrel.  Most  of  the  monologues  in  dialect,  like  The 
Northern  Farmer,  The  Grandmother,  The  Village  Wife, 
and  The  Spinster's  Sweet-Arts,  are  humorous  poems.  In 
The  Northern  Cobbler  we  have  an  eccentric  character  but 
a  serious  theme. 

Good  editions  of   Tennyson's  poems    are  the  Cambridge 
Brief  Bib-      Edition   (Houghton,   Mifflin   and  Company)   and 
llogTaphy.      The  Works  of  Tennyson  (1  vol.,  Macmillan).    Nu- 
merous school  editions  of  selected  poems  exist,  among  them 
Numbers  73,  99,  111  of  the  Riverside  Literature  Series  —  the 
first  containing  four  of  the  Idylls  of  the  King,  the  second 
Enoch  Arden  and  other  poems,  the  third  The   Princess, 
edited  by  W.  J.  Kolfe.    The  Princess,  edited  by  A.  S.  Cook, 
in  the  Standard  English  Classics  (Ginn),  and  The  Princess, 
edited  by  A.  J.  George   (Heath),   are   excellent  text-books. 
The    authoritative    biography  of  the    poet    is    the  Life  of 
Alfred   Tennyson   (2  vols.),   by  his  son,  Hallam  Tennyson 
(Macmillan).     In  the  English  Men  of  Letters  Series  the 
Tennyson  is  by  Alfred  Lyall.     There  is  a  brief  Life  of 
Tennyson  by  A.  Waugh  (United  States   Book   Company). 
Of  the  commentaries  on  Tennyson,  The  Poetry  of  Tenny- 
son, by  Henry  van  Dyke  (Scribner),  Tennyson,  his  Art  and 
his  Relation  to  Modern  Life,  by  Stopford  Brooke,  and  A 
Tennyson  Primer,  by  W.  M.  Dixon  ( Dodd,  Mead  and  Com- 
pany), are  especially  recommended.      Tennyson's  In  Memo- 
riam  :  Its  Purpose  and  Structure,  by  J.  F.  Genung  (Hough- 
ton, Mifflin  and  Company),  should  be  used  in  studying  the 
Elegy.     Refer  to  E.    C    Stedman's   The    Victorian   Poets 
(Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company).     In  studying  The  Idylls 
of  the  King,  read  Tennyson's  Idylls  of  the  King  and  Arthu- 
rian Story,  by  M.  W.  Maccallum  (Macmillan),  or  Tenny- 
son's Idylls  of  the  King,  by  Harold  Littledale  (Macmillan). 
Studies  in  Literature :  Mr.  Tennyson  and  Mr.  Browning, 
by  Edward  Dowden,  will  be  useful  for  general  reference  upon 


THE   MINOR  POETS  459 

both  these  poets  ;  also  The  Great  Poets  and  their  Theology,  by 
Augustus  H.  Strong  (American  Baptist  Publication  Society). 

To  the  generation  of  Browning  and  Tennyson  belong 
the  numerous  minor  poets  of  the  Victorian  t^  Minor 
era :  Edward  FitzGerald  (1809-83),  author  Poets- 
of  a  remarkable  version  of  The  Rubdiydt  of  the  Persian 
poet  Omar  Khayyam ;  Arthur  Hugh  Clough  (1819- 
61),  the  poet  of  spiritual  unrest,  of  doubt  and  struggle, 
a  friend  of  Matthew  Arnold,  and  the  subject  of  that 
poet's  elegiac  poem  Thyrsis  ;  Dante  Gabriel  Ros- 
SETTi  (1828-82),  painter  as  well  as  poet,  prominent 
among  the  Preraphaelite  Brotherhood,  author  of  The 
Blessed  Damozel  and  The  House  of  Life.  William 
Morris  (1834-96),  a  minor  poet  only  in  comparison 
with  the  two  great  leaders  of  the  era,  was  the  most  fa- 
mous of  the  Preraphaelites.  He  introduced  the  spirit 
of  art  into  the  mechanic  trades ;  and,  like  Ruskin, 
taught  and  practiced  the  principles  of  socialism  in  con- 
nection with  his  craft.  His  literary  themes  he  found 
in  the  past.'  His  first  volume  of  lyrics,  The  Defence  of 
Guinevere  (1858),  represents  the  romance  of  medi- 
evalism ;  The  Life  and  Death  of  Jason  (1867)  is 
based  on  Grecian  legend.  His  masterpiece,  The  Earthly 
Paradise  (1870),  is  a  collection  of  tales  of  many  lands, 
north,  south,  east,  and  west,  bound  together  in  a  roman- 
tic narrative,  with  all  the  art  of  the  old  French  story- 
tellers, and  not  unlike  that  of  Chaucer  himself.  Morris 
is  the  author,  also,  of  a  long  series  of  prose  romances, 
of  which  The  Hoiise  of  the  Wolfings  and  The  Land 
of  the  Glittering  Plain  are  perhaps  the  best  known. 
Like  the  poems,  these  works  are  full  of  the  dreamy 
medieval  atmosphere  which  charmed  his  spirit,  and 
are  as  much  poetry  as  prose ;  they  are  imaginative, 
picturesque  in  the  extreme,  and  almost  archaic  in  their 
pure  Saxon  diction.     In  all  these  compositions  he  is  as 


460         FROM   WORDSWORTH   TO   TENNYSON 

pronounced  a  romanticist  as  Keats,  creating  works  of 
beauty  because  he  delights  in  beautiful  creations,  and 
illustrating-  perfectly  the  principle  of  art  for  art's  sake. 
One  poet,  still  liviug,  should  be  mentioned  in  this 
group,  for  his  generation  is  that  of  those  recorded 
here.  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne  (born  1837) 
was  an  early  associate  of  Morris  and  Iiossetti.  He  is 
the  author  of  many  ballads,  lyrics,  epics,  and  dramas. 
His  strongest  work  is  the  Atalanta  in  Calydon  (1864). 
Swinburne  is  recognized  as  a  master  of  technique  in 
verse  construction  and  of  musical  effect  —  one  of  the 
greatest  masters  of  these  qualities  in  our  literature. 
Prose  and  poetry  —  history,  fiction,  drama,  essay  — 
the  flood  of  literature  rolls  on  its  continuous 
course.  Just  in  the  present  we  think  we  miss 
the  broad,  strong  sweep  of  its  earlier  power ;  the  energy 
of  this  age  is  perhaps  finding  its  expression  in  other 
fields  ;  the  inspiration  of  its  experience  and  achieve- 
ments has  not  yet  been  felt ;  the  literature  of  the  new 
certury  has  not  yet  begun.  But  the  past  is  our  herit- 
age :  what  a  heritage  it  is !  what  glorious  minds  these 
men  possessed !  what  glorious  souls  !  And  these  are 
forever  our  possession,  in  our  books. 


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ENGLISH   LITERATURE 


03 

H 

3 

1 

o 

Shorthouse's    Jo/in    Ingle- 

sant  (1880). 
Stevenson  (1845-94). 

Treasure  Island  (1863). 

Kidnapped  (1886). 

Master  of  Ballantrae 

(1889). 

DanW  Ba#bur  (1893). 
Recent  Novels  by  George 

Meredith,Williani  Black, 

Thomas   Hardy,    Henry 

James. 

DO 

M 

3 

o 

03 

E> 

■< 
1 

tn 

3 

The   New   English   Dic- 
tionary.    Vol.  I.  1884. 
The    Dictionary  of  Na- 
tional  Biography.     Vol. 
I.  1885. 

o 
o 
© 

1 

m 
t> 

00 

r-{ 

i 

o 

Cm 

o-j 
H 

P 

-< 

tn 

/. 

w 

S 
1 

Tennyson's  Harold  (1S76). 
Browning's  Pacchiarotto 

(1876). 

Dramatic  Idyls  (1880). 

Becket;  Ferishtah's  Fan- 
cies (1884). 

Tiresias  and  Other  Poems 

(188.">). 

Locksley   Hall   Sixty 

Years  After  (1886). 

Parleyings  with    Certain 

People  (1887). 

Demeter  (1889) ;  Asolan- 

do  (1890). 

Recent  poems  by  Rud- 
yard   Kipling,    William 
Watson,      and    Stephen 
Phillips. 

Bagehot's  Literary  Studies 

(1S78). 
Arnold's    Discourses    in 

America  (1885). 
Pater's  Marius  (1885). 

I maginary  Portraits 

(18S7). 

Second  Series  Essays  in 

Criticism  (1888). 

Appreciations  (1889). 
Ruskin's  Prater ita  (1887). 

Victoria 
(1837-1901). 

INDEX 


A.  B.  C,  Chaucer's,  65. 

Abbotsford :  Scott,  338  ;  map,  465,  Ca. 

Abellino,  Zschokke's,  334. 

Aberdeeu :  Byron,  351. 

Abou  Ben  Adhem,  369. 

Absalom  and  Achitophel,  218,  219,  250. 

Absentee,  The,  413. 

AM  Vogler,  437. 

Account  of  the  Greatest  English  Poets, 

Addison's,  226. 
Adam  Bede,  426. 
Addison,   Joseph,   mentioned,  223,  239, 

241,  261,  267,  285,  289,369,374,395; 

account  of,  225-237;   travels,  226;  The 

Campaign,   226,   227  ;  Spectator,  232, 

233  ;  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  233  ;  Cato, 

234  ;  marriage,  234 ;  Secretary  of  State, 
234 ;  death,  234;  study,  235-237;  Macau- 
lay's  Essay  on,  393. 

Address  to  the  Irish  People,  Shelley's, 
359. 

Addresses  of  the  Soul  to  the  Body,  27. 

Adelmorn  the  Outlaw,  334. 

Adonais,  361,365,  411. 

Advancement  of  Learning,  Bacon's,  175. 

JEneid,  translation  of,  97. 

jEthelstan,  King,  27. 

Age  of  Chaucer,  The,  59-64. 

Aidan,  the  missionary,  19,  20. 

Alastor,  360. 

Albinus,  48. 

Alcander,  Prince  of  Rhodes,  250. 

Alchemist,  The,  148. 

Alcuin,  31,  43. 

Aldborough,  map,  465,  Eb. 

Alderney,  map,  465,  Cd. 

Aldwinkle  :  Dryden,  217  ;  map,  465,  Db. 

Aldworth  :  Tennyson,  450  ;  map,  465, 
Dc. 

Alexander,  stories  of,  44. 

Alexander  and  Campaspe,  Lyly's,  125. 

Alexander's  Feast,  220. 

Alfred,  Kino,  mentioned,  6,  36,  43,  68; 
account  of,  31-34  ;  Bede,  22,  23,  34 ; 
Boe/hius,  33;  Orosius,  33  ;  Gregory,  34  ; 
love  of  learning,  32  ;  Pastoral  Care,  32, 
33;  schools,  34;  The  Chronicle,  34,  35. 

Alfred,  Sayings  of,  53. 

Alice  Fell,  326. 

All  the  Year  Round,  420. 

Allington,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Alliteration  in  Anglo-Saxon  verse,  17  ; 
Layamon's  Brut,  47  ;  Piers  the  Plow- 
man, 55  ;  euphuism,  124. 

Alloway  Kirk,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Almanack,  Cruikshank's,  431. 


Alphonsus  King  of  Arragon,  Greene's, 
125. 

Alton  Locke,  429. 

Amelia,  in  Vanity  Fair,  424. 

America,  Histoiy  of,  Robertson's,  301. 

American  Notes,  420. 

Amesbury,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Amoretti,  Spenser's,  105. 

Amourists,  The,  96. 

Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  The,  178. 

Ancren  Riwle,  The,  53. 

Angles,  The,  4,  5,  36. 

Anglesey,  map,  405,  Bb. 

Anglia,  East,  5,  6. 

Anglo-Norman  Period,  41-81. 

Anglo-Saxon  Chronicle,  27,  34  ;  descrip- 
tion, illustration,  35. 

Anglo-Saxon  Period,  1-40 ;  map,  7.  Its 
limits,  6;  poetry,  8-29;  its  form,  16,  17, 
22  ;  its  imagery,  18,  27  ;  its  spirit,  17, 
19,  22,  26 ;  manuscripts,  26. 

Anglo-Saxon  poetry,  8-29. 

Anglo-Saxon  prose,  29-35. 

Anglo-Saxons,  The,  8,  14;  the  hall,  8; 
religion,  4,  5 ;  conversion,  19 ;  scholar- 
ship, 30,  31,  32. 

Annals  of  Winchester,  27. 

Annan,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Anne,  age  of,  223-225  ;  politics,  223 ; 
parties,  224 ;  morals,  224  ;  literature, 
225 ;  Defoe,  267. 

Annus  Mirabilis,  218. 

Anselm,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  43. 

Antiquary,  The,  338. 

Appleby,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Appreciations,  411. 

Arbuthnot,  John,  247,  257. 

Arcades,  184. 

Arcadia,  The  Countess  of  Pembroke'), 
100,  266. 

Areopagitica,  The,  186. 

Ariel,  in  The  Tempest,  146. 

Arnold.  Matthew,  mentioned,  390,  432, 
459  ;  account  of,  410,  411. 

Arnold  of  Rugby,  410. 

Arraignment  of  Paris,  Peele's,  125. 

Arran,  Island  of,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Arthur,  King,  stories  of,  44,  47 ;  in 
Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  48 ;  Malory's 
Morte  Darthur,  84 ;  Faerie  Queene,  104  ; 
Milton,  185 ;  Tennyson,  449. 

Artificial  school,  The,  220,  222,  253,  254, 
261,  265,  327. 

Ascham,   Roger,  mentioned,  83,  89 ;  ac- 
count of,  92,  93. 
Asheetiel :  Scott,  337. 


406 


INDEX 


Auolo,  435. 

Assembly  of  Birds,  68. 

Aslm  a  /.'<  dux,  217. 

Astrophel,  Spenser's,  105. 

Astrophel  and  Stella,  99,  134. 

At  the  Graif  of  Burns,  324. 

AluUinta  in  Calydon,  4G0. 

Atlielney,  mop,  7,  lid. 

Attkkbury,  Francis,  257. 

Aut'liinleck,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Augustan  age  of  English  prose,  222-248  ; 

characteristics,  223. 
Augustine,  the  Apostle  to  the  Saxons,  19. 
Aurora  Leigh,  437. 
Austen,  Jane,  account  of,  413-415. 
Autobiographic  Sketches,  De  Quincey's, 

378,  383. 
Avon  (ashes  of  Wyclif),  57. 
Avon  River,  map,  465,  Cb. 
A ;/'  nhit,  Inwyt,  54. 
Ayr,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Bachelor's  Complaint,  A,  374. 

Bacon,  Francis,  mentioned,  101,  105, 
108,  134, 139, 178  ;  account  of,  170-178  ; 
early  life,  171  ;  Essex,  171,  172;  essays, 
171,  174,  176;  honors,  172;  Novum 
Organum,  172,  175;  disgrace,  173; 
closing  years,  174;  death.  174:  induc- 
tive system,  174  ;  study,  17(1-178  ;  Ma- 
caulay's  Essay  on,  392,  393,  431. 

Badman,  Mr.,  Bunyan's,  210. 

Bale,  John,  118. 

Ballad  upon  a  Wedding,  Suckling's,  204. 

Ballads,  The,  47  ;  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, 88. 

Banbury,  map,  465,  Db. 

Bangor,  map,  465,  Bb. 

Barchester  Towers,  428. 

Bard,  The,  306. 

Bard's  Epitaph,  A,  312. 

Barnaby  Budge,  420. 

Barnstaple,  map,  465,  Be. 

Barrett,  Elizabeth,  436. 

Barry  Lyndon,  423. 

Bath  :  Jane  Austen,  414 ;  map,  465,  Cc. 

Battle  Abbey,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Battle  narratives  in  verse,  27,  28. 

Battle  of  Alcazar,  Peele's,  125. 

Battle  of  Brunnanburh,  27  ;  quoted,  28; 
mentioned,  35. 

Battle  of  the  Books,  240,  241. 

Baxter,  Richard,  214. 

Bea'-ousfichl.  map,   11'..",  Dr. 

Beaumont,  Francis,  150. 

Beeket,  449.  457. 

Beckford,  William,  333. 

Becky  Sharp,  in  Vanity  Fair,  424. 

Bede,  mentioned,  20,21,  22,  43,  48  ;  ac- 
count of,  29  31  ;  *'■  anion.  22,  23 ; 
works,  30  ;  scholarship,  30,  31  ;  Al- 
fred'fl  translation.  '.'A. 

Bede,  Adam,  in  Adam  Bede,  426,  1-7. 

Bedford:  Banyan, 207,  209, 210  ;  Butler, 
221  :  map,  466,  Db. 

Bee,   The. 

ttda,  413. 


Bell,  Currer,  pen-name  of  Charlotte 
Bronte,  425. 

B(  Us  and  Pomegranates,  436. 

Bemerton,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Bt  owulf,  mentioned,  5, 28,  36  ;  quotation, 
8,  9,  16,  18;  the  poem,  10-14;  inter- 
pretation, 14,  16 ;  facsimile  of  manu- 
script, 15;  manuscript  described,  16, 
mentioned,  20. 

Beowulf,  the  hero,  10,  11,  12,  13,  14,  16. 

Berwick-upon-Tweed,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Besant,  Walter,  quoted,  420. 

Betrothal,  The,  339. 

Bevis  of  Hampton,  44. 

Bible,  the  English,  Wyclif,  56,  58  ;  Tyn- 
dale,  90  ;  Coverdale,  90  ;  Cranmer,  91  ; 
Geneva,  91;  King  James,  91  ;  influence 
on  Bunyan,  212  ;  on  Ruskin,  403. 

Bickerstaff,  241,  242. 

Bideford,  map,  465,  Be. 

Bilton,  map,  465,  Db. 

Binfield  :  Pope,  250 ;  map,  465,  Dc. 

Biographia  Literaria,  323. 

Birkenhead,  map,  465,  Cb. 

Birmingham,  map,  465,  Db. 

Black  Dwarf,  The,  338. 

Blackwood's  Magazine,  366,  367,  381,383, 
384,  387,  416,  426. 

Blair,  Robert,  304. 

Blank  verse,  Surrey's  JEneid,  94 ;  in 
Gorboduc,  116,  306. 

/;/,  „i-  House,  420,  422. 

Blessed  Damozel,  The,  459. 

Blot  in  the  'Snitrheon,  A,  436. 

Blyth,  map,  465,  Da. 

Boccaccio,  59,  67,  68,  71. 

Boethins,  Alfred's  translation,  33,  68 ; 
Chaucer's  translation,  67. 

Boileau,  Nicolas,  216,  252. 

Bolingbroke,  Lord  (Henry  St.  John), 
mentioned,  256,  259,  301. 

Book  of  Martyrs,  Fox's,  108. 

Book  of  Snobs,  The,  423. 

Boston,  map,  465,  Db. 

Boswell,  James,  284  ;  acquaintance  with 
Johnson.  287,  288,  289,  290,  296. 

Bosworth  Field,  map,  It'.",  Db. 

Bournemouth,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Bowge  of  Gourte,  The,  87. 

"Boz,"  pen-name  of  Dickens,  419. 

Bradford,  map,  465,  Db. 

Braich-y-Pwll,  map,  465,  Bb. 

Brantwood  :  Ruskin,  408;  ma/i,  465,  C 

Bravo  of  Venice,  The,  334. 

Brecon,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Bride  of  Abydos,  The.  338, 

Bride  of  Lammermoor,  The,  338. 

Bridgewater,  nm/i,  465,  Cc. 

Brighton,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Brigs  of  Ayr,  Tin  ,  311. 

Bristol:  Langland,  56 ;  Defoe,  270; 
Bouthey,  332;   map,  465,  Cc. 

Britain  and  the  KiurliBh.  2-7  ;  the  Ro- 
mans, 2  ;  the  Teutons,  3. 

Britons,  The,  2,   1.  49. 

BrontK,  Charlotte,  425. 

Browns,  Sir  Thomas.  17*. 

Browning,  Robert,  mentioned,  389,  390, 


INDEX 


467 


432,  442,  449,  459  ;  quoted,  141  ;  ac- 
count of,  432-442 ;  parentage,  child- 
hood, 432;  education,  433  ;  the  definite 
plan  of  work,  433;  Pauline,  Paracel- 
sus, 434 ;  Strafford,  Sordello,  Pippa 
Passes,  435  ;  Bells  and  Pomegranates, 

436  ;  Elizabeth  Barrett,  436,  437  ;  Italy, 

437  ;  The  Ring  and  the  Book,  437,  438  ; 
philosophy,  death,  438  ;  study,  438-442. 

Browning,  Sharpe's  Life  of,  433. 

Brunnanburh,  Battle  of,  27  ;  quoted, 
28  ;  mentioned,  35. 

Brunne,  map,  465,  Db. 

Brunne,  Robert  Manning  of,  49,  54. 

Brut,  Layamon's,  47,  48,  49  ;  Wace's,  48, 
49. 

Brutus,  in  Julius  Ccesar,  144. 

Buckhurst,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Buckingham,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Budleigh,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Bulwer,  Edward  (Lord  Lytton),  415, 
416,  431. 

Bunyan,  John,  206-214  ;  early  life,  207  ; 
a  soldier,  207  ;  marriage,  207,  208 ;  re- 
ligious experience,  208  ;  Bedford  Jail, 
209,  210 ;  sermons,  210 ;  Pilgrim's 
Progress,  210,  211-214  ;  later  life,  210  ; 
death,  211 ;  title  -  page  of  Pilgrim?* 
Progress,  213;  mentioned,  221,  244, 
267,  270. 

Bdrke,  Edmund,  mentioned,  2,  223,  238, 
289,  290,  296  ;  account  of,  301-303. 

Burne-Jones,  Edward,  404. 

Burney,  Frances,  291,  413. 

Bitrns,  Robert,  mentioned,  86,  265,  316, 
317,  324,  325,  369,  396, 399  ;  account  of, 
310-314;  folk-songs,  310;  ploughman- 
poet,  311,  312  ;  The  Cotter's  Saturday 
Night,Z\\  ;  Edinburgh,  311;  marriage, 

312  ;    death,    312 ;    appreciation,    312, 

313  ;  study,  313,  314. 
Burns,  Life  of,  387. 
Burton,  Robert,  178,  374. 

Bury  St.  Edmunds,  map,  465,  Eb. 

Busirus,  Young's,  264. 

Busy  Body,  The,  295. 

Bute,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Butler,  Samuel,  221,  246. 

Byrhtnoth,  in  Battle  of  Maldon,  28. 

Byron,  Lord,  mentioned,  338,  357,  358, 
361,  362,  365,  368,  387,  388,  392,  403, 
431,  433,  443,  444  ;  account  of,  350-357; 
ancestry,  351  ;  mother's  character,  351; 
Harrow  and  Cambridge,  351 ,  352 ; 
Hours  of  Idleness,  352  ;  cynicism,  352  ; 
House  of  Lords,  352  ;  English  Bards, 
352;  travels,  353 ;  metrical  romances, 
353,  354  ;  marriage,  354 ;  in  Italy,  354  ; 
Don  Juan,  355 ;  the  Greek  Revolution, 
355  ;  death,  355  ;  study,  355-357. 

Byron,  Macaulay's  Essay  on,  393. 

C«dmon,  mentioned,  18,  36,  47  ;  account 
of,  21-23 ;  his  vision,  21 ;  his  hymn, 
22 ;  works,  22,  23 ;  Genesis,  Exodus, 
23. 

Caerleon,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Caermarthen,  map,  465,  Be. 


Caernarvon,  map,  465,  Bb. 

Caesar,  Julius,  2. 

Ccesars,  The,  383. 

Cain,  354. 

Caleb  Williams,  334. 

Cam  River,  map,  465,  Eb. 

Cambridge,  map,  7,  Dc  ;  465,  Eb. 

Camelford,  map,  465,  Be. 

Campaign,  The,  226,  227. 

Can  you  Forgive  her,  429. 

Canterbury  :  the  scene  of  Chaucer's  pil- 
grimage, 71 ;  birthplace  of  Marlowe, 
126 ;  map,  7,  Dd ;  465,  Ec. 

Canterbury  Tales,  The,  mentioned,  59, 
68,  70,  114,  260,  266;  described,  71, 
72;  Caxton's  edition,  84;  facsimile  of 
Caxton's  page,  85 ;  paraphrased  by 
Dryden,  220. 

Captain  Singleton,  272. 

Cardiff,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Cardigan,  map,  465,  Bb. 

Carew,  Thomas,  203  ;  quoted,  204. 

Carisbrooke,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Carlisle,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Carlyle,  Jane  Welsh,  397,  400. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  mentioned,  2,  390, 402, 
404,  410  ;  quoted,  3S9,  431 ;  account  of, 
396-402  ;  parentage,  396  ;  student  life, 
396,  397  ;  years  of  struggle,  397 ;  mar- 
riage, 397  ;  Sartor  Resartus,  398  ;  lec- 
turer and  historian,  399 ;  essayist  and 
biographer,  400  ;  death,  400  ;  the 
teacher,  400  ;  study,  401,  402. 

Caroline  Poets,  The,  203. 

Casa  Guidi  Windoivs,  437. 

Cassius,  in  Julius  Casar,  144. 

Castaway,  The,  309,  310. 

Castle  of  Indolence,  The,  265. 

Castle  of  Otranto,  The,  333. 

Castle  of  Perseverance,  112. 

Castle  Rackrent,  413. 

Castle  Spectre,  The,  334. 

Castletown,  Isle  of  Man,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Catiline,  148. 

Cato,  Addison's,  234. 

Cavalier  Poets,  The,  203. 

Caxton,  William,  account  of,  84  ;  fac- 
simile of  his  page,  85. 

Caxlons,  The,  416. 

Celtic  words  in  English,  36. 

Celts,  The,  2,  3,  6, 49. 

Cenci,  The,  361. 

Cervantes,  403. 

Chalfont  St.  Giles,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Chansons  de  Gesles,  43. 

Chapman,  George,  151,  366. 

Charlemagne,  stories  of,  43,  44. 

Charles  V.,  Robertson's,  301. 

Chartism,  400. 

Chatterton,  Thomas,  307,  366. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  mentioned,  42,  54, 
56,  58,  59,  83,  86,  92,  102,  106,  113,  130, 
225,  266,  325,  366,  459 ;  age  of,  59-64  ; 
society,  60  ;  evils  of  the  time,  62  ;  Lon- 
don, 63,  64;  The  Tabard  Inn,  64;  ac- 
count of,  64-75;  youth,  64,  65;  early 
works,  65,  66  ;  Italian  tours,  66,  67  ; 
Troilus  and  Criseyde,  68  ;  allegories. 


4G8 


INDEX 


68,  CO  ;  later  works,  GO,  70  ;  The  Can- 
terbury Tales,  71,  72;  death,  72;  ap- 
preciation, 72-75  ;  nature  poetry,  71! ; 
inllueuce  upon  language,  74  ;  study, 
76 ;  paraphrased  by  Dryden,  220. 

Chelmsford,  map,  465,  Ec. 

CheUea  :  Carlyle,  390. 

Chertsey,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Chester :  a  Roman  town,  3  ;  miracle  plays, 
111  ;  map,  7,  Be  ;  465,  Cb. 

Chevy  Chase,  88. 

Chichester,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  338,  353, 
354. 

Child's  History  of  England,  The,  420. 

Chinese  Letters,  The,  205. 

Chretien  de  Troyee,  47. 

Christ,  The,  of  Cynewulf,  24,  25,  27  ; 
quoted,  25. 

Christabel,  323. 

Christian,  in  Pilgrim's  Progress,  267. 

Christian  Hero,  Steele's,  227. 

Christianity  in  Britain,  10  ;  influence  on 
early  English  poetry,  20. 

Christmas  Tales,  The,  420. 

Christ's  Hospital  Five-and-Thirty  Years 
Ago,  374. 

Chronicle,  Anglo-Saxon,  27,  34,  35,  47. 

Chronicle,  Robert  of  Gloucester's,  40 ; 
Robert  Manning's,  40. 

Chronicle  of  Edward  I.,  Peele's,  125. 

Chronicles,  Holinshed's,  117. 

Chronicles,  Middle  English,  47. 

Church,  The,  in  Britain,  3  ;  conversion  of 
the  Saxons,  10. 

Church  History,  Fuller's,  57,  214. 

Church  Porch,  The,  Herbert's,  200. 

Churchyard  poetry,  304. 

Cibber,  Colley,  The.  Dunciad,  258. 

Citizen  of  the  World,  The,  205. 

Clarissa  Harlowe,  275. 

Clarke,  Charles  Cowden,  365,  306. 

Cleobury   Mortimer,  map,  465,  Cb. 

Clevedon,  Coleridge,  310  ;  map,  165,  Co. 

('lire,  Macaulay's  Essay  on,  303. 

Cloister  and  the  Hearth,  The,  416,  429. 

Clouoh,  Arthur  Hugh,  411,  459. 

Clovelly,  map,  465,  Be. 

Club,  The,  in  The  Spectator,  233,  235. 

Club,  The  Literary,  280,  296. 

Clyde  River,  2  ;   map,  465,  Ba. 

Cock  and  the  Fax,  The,  Dryden's,  220. 

Cockermouth  :  Wordsworth,  317  ;  map, 
465  Ca 

Coffee-Houses,  220,  229,  230,  231,  239, 
243. 

Colchester,  map,  7,  Dd. 

Coleridoe,  S.  T. ,  mentioned, 214, 316, 317, 
332,  333,  369,  370,  371,  373,  381,  383, 
397,  408,  431  ;  account  of,  319  324  ; 
childhood,  310;  radical  Ideas,  Pantis- 
ocracy,  319;  lyrical  ballads,  320 ;  Ger- 
many,  320;  Christabel,  Kubla  Khan, 
323  ;  prose,  323  ;  death,  324. 

Colet,  John,  83. 

Colin  Clout,  Sanger's,  101 

Collins,  William,  304. 

Cotombt  t  Birthday,  436. 


Colonel  Jacqve,  272. 

Columba,  the  Irish  nimsionary,  20. 

Colyn  Clout,  Skelton's,  87. 

Comedy,  The  first,  1 15. 

( 'timing  of  Arthur,  The,  449. 

Commonwealth,  The,  181. 

Compleat  Angler,  The,  215. 

Comjtleynt  to  his  Purs,  Chaucer's,  72. 

( 'iimpleynte  to  Pile,  65. 

Comus,  184. 

Conduct  of  the  Allies,  The,  242. 

Confessio  A  mantis,  59. 

Congreve,  William,  238,  239. 

Coniston,  Lake  :  Ruskin,  408. 

Cont/uest  of  Granada,  Dryden's,  218. 

Contention  betwixt  the  Two  Famous 
Houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  The, 
118. 

Conversion  of  the  Saxons,  19  ;  in  Words- 
worth's sonnets,  19. 

Cooper's  Hill,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Corinna,  Herrick's,  205. 

Cornhill  Magazine,  The,  426. 

Corsair,  The,  353,  354. 

'  'otter's  Saturday  Night,  The,  311. 

Count  Julian,  388. 

Couplet,  The,  206,  220,  249,  306,  352. 

Covenant,  The,  181. 

Coventry  :  miracle  plays,  111;  mysteries, 
111,  117;  Shakespeare,  131  ;  map,  465, 
Db. 

Coverdale,  Miles,  Bishop  of  Exeter,  00, 
01. 

Cowley,  Abraham,  203. 

Cowper,  William,  mentioned,  316,  317, 
358;  account  of,  307-310;  timidity, 
308  ;  the  Olney  hymns,  308  ;  John  Oil- 
pin,  308  ;   The  Task,  300. 

Coxwold,  map,  465,  Da. 

Craigenputtoch  :  Carlyle,  397  ;  map,  4C5, 
Ca. 

Cranford,  125. 

Cranmer's  Bible,  91. 

Crashaw,  Richard,  201,202. 

Crawley,  Rawdon,  in  Vanity  Fair,  424. 

Critical  Review,  The,  205. 

Criticism,  216. 

Criticism,  Essay  on  (Pope's),  253;  Essays 
in,  410;  The  Function  of,  410. 

Cromwell's  Letters  ami  Speeches,  400, 
Cromwell,  in  Carlyle'e  Heroes,  399. 

Cross,  Wilbur  I...  quoted,  413. 

'  'rossnm  the  /lor.  450. 

Crown  of  Wild  Olive,  The,  406. 

Culture  and  A  narchy,  111. 

Cura  Pastoralis,  33,34. 

Currer  Bell,  pen-name  of  Charlotte 
Bronti;,  426. 

Curse  of  Kehama,  The,  332. 

Cursor  Mundi,  54. 

Cymbeline,  in  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth, 
48. 

Cymri,  The,  2  ;  Cymric  words  in  Eng- 
lish. 36. 

Cynewulf,  account  of,  23-26  ;  works,  24, 
25,  26;  runes,  24;  quoted,  20,  21  ;  Ju- 
dith, 29  ;  mentioned,  M,  49. 

Cynthia's  Levels,  148. 


INDEX 


469 


Daily  Courant,  The,  228. 

Danelagh,  The,  37. 

Danes,  The,  6, 12, 13,  27  ;  wars  of  Alfred, 
31,  32,  35,  36 ;  Hrothgar,  in  Beowulf, 
11,  43  ;  Orm,  53. 

Daniel  Deronda,  427. 

Dante,  67,  82,  96,  399. 

D'Arblay,  Madame,  Macaulay's  Essay 
on,  393. 

Dartmoor,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Dartmouth,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Darwin,  Charles  Robert,  442,  443. 

David  Balfour,  430. 

David  Copperfield,  417,  420. 

David  Copperfield,  in  David  Copperfield, 
419. 

DavideU,  Cowley's,  203. 

De  Augmentis  Scientiarum,  175. 

De  Consolatione  Philosophise,  Alfred's 
translation,  33,  68  ;  Chaucer's  transla- 
tion, 67. 

Dean,  Forest  of,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Dean  Prior,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Death  in  the  Desert,  A,  437. 

Death  of  Hoel,  The,  306. 

Death  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  Ode  on 
the,  448. 

Decameron,  The,  59,  71. 

Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
300. 

Decline  of  the  stage,  151. 

Defence  of  Guinevere,  The,  459. 

Defence  of  Poesy,  99. 

Defence  of  Poetry,  Shelley's,  361. 

Defensio  Secunda,  Milton's,  186,  187. 

Defoe,  Dandm.,  mentioned,  228, 229, 274, 
275,  420  ;  account  of,  267-273  ;  educa- 
tion, 268  ;  The  Review,  268  ;  facsimile 
of  frontispiece,  269  ;  Robinson  Crusoe, 
270  ;  realism,  271 ;  narratives,  271, 272 ; 
rogue  narratives,  272 ;  misfortunes, 
273  ;  death,  273  ;  the  "  novel,"  273. 

Dkkkbr,  Thomas,  151. 

Demeter  and  Other  Poems,  450. 

Denbigh,  map,  465,  Cb. 

Denmark,  Mallet's  History  of,  307. 

Deor's  Lament,  10,  27. 

Deptford,  map,  465,  Ec. 

De  Qcfncey,  Thomas,  mentioned,  2,  3C9, 
388,  395, 397,  431  ;  account  of,  376-386  ; 
characteristics,  377  ;  childhood,  378  ; 
imagination,  37S ;  effect  of  sister's 
death,  379 ;  experience  in  London, 
380  ;  friendships,  381  ;  marriage,  381  ; 
the  opium-eater,  381,  382 ;  the  Confes- 
sions, 382 ;  magazine  articles,  383  , 
death,  384 ;  study,  385,  386. 

Derby,  map,  465,  Db. 

Derwent,  The  (Wordsworth),  317. 

Derwent  Water,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Descent  of  Man,  443. 

Descent  of  Odin,  The,  306. 

Descriptive  Sketches,  319. 

Desdemona,  in  Othello,  144. 

Deserted  House,  The,  444. 

Deserted  Village,  The,  293,  296. 

Dethe  of  Blaunche  the  Duchesse,  66. 

Deucalion,  406. 


Development  of  the  English  Novel, 
Cross's,  413. 

Diaries,  of  Pepys  and  Evelyn,  215. 

Dickens,  Charles,  mentioned,  389,  390, 
423,  428,  429,431  ;  account  of,  417-422; 
childhood,  417;  early  struggles,  418; 
first  contribution,  419  ;  the  novels,  420; 
characteristics,  421 ;  philanthropic  pur- 
pose, 421;   position,  422. 

Dictes  and  Sayitigs  of  the  Philosophers, 
84. 

Dictionary,  Johnson's,  281,  285,  286, 

Discourses  in  America,  411. 

Discovery  of  Guiana,  Raleigh's,  101. 

Disraeli,  Benjamin  (Lord  Beacousfield), 
416. 

Dissertation  on  Roast  Pig,  A,  374. 

Divine  Comedy,  Dante's,  67. 

Divine  Emblems,  Quarles's,  201. 

Do  Wei,  Do  Bet,  Do  Best,  56. 

Dobbin,  in  Vanity  Fair,  424. 

Doings  of  the  Senate  of  IAlliput,  284. 

Dolgelly,  map,  465,  Cb. 

Dombey  and  Son,  420,  422. 

Dombey,  Paul,  in  Dombey  and  Son,  419, 
422. 

Domett,  Alfred,  433. 

Don  Juan,  353,  355. 

Don  Quixote,  270. 

Doncaster,  a  Roman  town,  3. 

Donne,  John,  200. 

Dorchester,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Douglas,  Gavin,  86. 

Douglas,  Isle  of  Man,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Dover,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Drama,  The,  development,  108-129 ;  re- 
ligious rites,  109 ;  miracle  plays  or 
mysteries,  110;  pageants,  110;  Ches- 
ter, York,  Towneley,  Coventry,  111; 
realistic  portrayal  of  character,  111; 
typical  characters,  111  ;  moralities, 
112  ;  Skelton's  Necromancer,  113 ;  in- 
terludes of  John  Heywood,  113-115; 
Four  P.'s,  113-115  ;  comedy,  115; 
Udall's  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  115 ; 
influence  of  Latiu  dramatists,  115,  116  ; 
tragedy,  116  ;  Morton  and  Sackville's 
Gorboduc,  116  ;  historical  plays,  117, 
118  ;  theatres,  119-121 ;  companies, 
121  ;  Shakespeare's  predecessors,  122  ; 
Lyly,  122-125 ;  Swan  Theatre,  interior 
of,  123 ;  euphuism,  124,  125 ;  Peele, 
Kyd,  Greene.  Nash,  Lodge,  125,  126 ; 
Marlowe,  126-128 ;  study,  128, 129 ;  de- 
cline of  drama,  176  ;  the  restoration, 
217,  218. 

Dramatic  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Eliza- 
beth, 386. 

Dramatic  Lyrics,  436. 

Dramatic  Romances  and  Lyrics,  436. 

Dramatists,  lesser,  151. 

Drapier  Letters,  The,  244. 

Drayton,  Michael,  quoted,  130. 

Dream  of  Fair  Women,  A,  445. 

Dream  of  the.  Rood,  of  Cynewulf,  24, 
27. 

Druids,  The,  19. 

Dry  burgh  Abbey,  map,  465,  Ca. 


470 


INDEX 


Deydbn,  John,  mentioned,  150,  200,  215, 
230,246,  249,  250,  257,  258,  260,  304; 
influenced  by  Waller,  206  ;  age  of,  215, 
216;  plays,  217,  218;  account  of,  217 
220;  Astrwa  Redux,  217;  Annus  Mira- 
bilis,  218;  Absalom  and  Achitophel, 
218;  The  Medal,  219;  McFlecknoe, 
219 ;  Religio  Laid,  219 ;  Hind  and 
Panther,  219  ;  laureate,  219  ;  transla- 
tions and  paraphrases,  220 ;  minor 
poems,  220  ;  authority,  220 ;  rhymed 
couplet,  220  ;  prose,  220  ;  Lowell,  220  ; 
death,  221  ;  influence,  222 ;  edited  by 
Scott,  337. 

Dryden,  Macaulay's  Essay  on,  393. 

Dublin:  Steele,  227;  Swift,  238;  Burke, 
301  ;  Moore,  368 ;  map,  465,  Ab. 

Dulwich,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Dumfries,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Dunbar,  William,  86. 

Dunciad,  The,  257. 

Dunwich,  map,  465,  Eb. 

Durham,  burial-place  of  Bede,  29 ;  map, 
465,  Da. 

Earnley,  home  of  Layamon,  47. 
Earthly  Paradise,  The,  459. 
Ecclefechan:    Carlyle,    396;    map,  465, 

Ca. 
Ecclesiastes,  paraphrase  of,  97. 
Eaclesiastical  History,   21 ;   account    of 

Csedmon,  22,  23 ;  Alfred's  translation, 

34. 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  Hooker's,  108. 
Ecclesiastical  Sonnets,   The,  of   Words- 
worth, 19. 
Edgeworth,  Maria,  account  of,  413. 
Edinburgh  :  Hume,  299  ;  Scott,  334  ;  De 

Quincey,   383 ;  Carlyle,   397  ;   map,  7, 

Bb;465,  Ca. 
Edinburgh  Review,   387,   391,  393,  431, 

444. 
Edmonton  :  Keats,  365  ;  Lamb,  375. 
Ednam,  map,  465,  Ca. 
Edward  II.,  126,  127. 
Edward  V.,  Life  of,  89. 
Egbert,  Archbishop  of  York,  31. 
Egdon  Heath,  map,  465,  Cc. 
Eighteenth  century,  The,  222. 
Eikon  Rasilike,  187. 
Eikonoklastes,  186,  187. 
Elaine,  449. 
Elegy,  Gray's,  304,  305. 
Elegy  to  the  Memory  of  an  Unfortunate 

I.udy,  Pope's,  264. 
Elene,  of  Cynewulf,  24,  25,  27  ;  quoted, 

Elia,  Essays  of,  374,  375 ;  Last  Essays 
of,  375. 

Eliot,  George  (Mary  Ann  Evans),  men- 
tioned, 425,  431  ;  account  of,  426-428 ; 
early  life,  introduction  to  literature, 
426  ;  novels,  427  ;  philosophy,  428  ; 
rank,  428. 

Elizabethan  ^oge,  The,  89,  216,  266,  304, 
369,  373,  374,  429  ;  representative  prose 
and  verse  of,  98-108  ;  development  of 
the  drama,  108-129;   Shakespeare  and 


his  successors,   129-168  ;  spirit   of  the 
age,  132-134. 

Elizabethans,  the  last  of,  170-178 ;  char- 
acteristics of,  170  ;  later,  179. 

Ellis,  Havelock,  389. 

Ellisland  :  Bums,  312. 

Eloise  to  Abelard,  254. 

Elstow  :  Bunyan,  206;  map,  465,  Db. 

Elvington,  map,  465,  Db. 

Ely :  established,  20  ;  map,  465,  Eb. 

Emblems,  Wither's,  202. 

Emma,  415. 

Endimion,  Lyly's,  125. 

Endymion,  366,  368. 

Enfield  :  Keats,  365. 

England,  Chaucer's,  60;  society  in  Chau- 
cer's time,  60-63. 

England,  Hume's  History  of,  299  ;  Ma- 
caulay's, 393,  394,  395. 

England  and  the  English,  6  ;  principal 
divisions  under  the  Teutons,  6;  the 
nation  and  the  language,  35-37  ;  Eng- 
lish officially  recognized  by  the  Nor- 
mans, 42,  74  ;  Layamon's  Brut,  49. 

English,  applied  to  language  and  litera- 
ture, 36. 

English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  88. 

English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers, 
352,  354. 

English  Comic  Writers,  Hazlitt's,  386. 

English  Humorists,  The,  425. 

English  Mail  Coach,  The,  384. 

English  Opium-Eater,  The,  377-386. 
English  Poets,  Hazlitt's,  386. 

English  prose,  Augustan  age  of,  222-248; 

characteristics,  223. 
Englishman,  The,  235,  270. 
En  id,  449. 

Ensham,  seat  of  iElfric,  34. 
Epic  fragments,  28. 
Epicame,  148. 
Epipsychidion,  361 . 
Epistle  of  Eloise  to  Abelard,  254. 
Epistle  of  Karshish,  Alt,  437. 
Epistles,  Pope's,  247. 
Epitaph  on  Shakespeare,  Milton's,  183. 
Epilhiiluinion,  Spenser's,  105. 
Erasmus,  83. 
Emley,  map,  465,  Cb. 
Essay,  The,  223,  225. 
Essay  on  Criticism,  The,  252,  253. 
Essay  on  Man,  The,  259,  260. 
Essayists,  the  great,  389. 
Essays,  Bacon's,  105,  171,  174,  176. 
Essays,  Pope's,  249,  252,  259. 
Essays  in  Criticism  (first  and  second  se- 
ries), 410. 
Essays  of  Elia,  374,  375  ;  Last,  375. 
Essenes,  The,  383. 
Bthaadum,  map,  7,  Bd. 
Ethics  of  the  Dust,  406. 
Eton,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Ettrick.  mini,  466,  Ca. 
Euganiun  Hills,  Lines  on  the,  361. 
Eugene  Aram,  415. 
Euphues,  Lyly's,  100,  124,  125. 
Euphuism,  i24,  125,  134. 
Euripides,  380. 


INDEX 


471 


Evans,  Mary  Ann  (George    Eliot),  42C, 

431. 
Eve  of  St.  Agnes,  The,  367. 
Eve  of  St.  John,  The,  337. 
Evelina,  291 . 
Evelyn,  John,  215. 
Eversley,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  136,  147. 
Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,  148. 
Everyman,  112. 

Examiner,  The,  Leigh  Hunt's,  366,  369. 
Examiner,  The,  Swift's,  242. 
Excursion,    The,    320,    327 ;    described, 

322. 
Exeter :  seat  of  Bishop  Leofric,  9,  26  ; 

Miles  Coverdale,  90  ;  map,  7,  Bd  ;  465, 

Cc. 
Exeter  Book,  The,  9,  26,  27. 
Exodus,  Csedinon's,  23. 
Expostulation  and  Reply,  320. 

Faerie  Queene,  The,  mentioned,  101,  105, 
134  ;  described,  104 ;  study,  106,  107  ; 
influence  upon  Keats,  365. 

Falmouth,  map,  465,  Be. 

Falstaff,  in  King  Henry  IV,  138,  144. 

Famous  Victories  of  Henry  V.,  The,  118. 

Fame  Islands,  map,  465,  Da. 

Farringford  :  Tennyson,  450  ;  map,  465, 
Dc. 

Fatal  Sisters,  The,  306. 

Fates  of  the  Apostles,  Cynewulf's,  4, 
27. 

Faustus,  Tragical  History  of  Doctor, 
126. 

Felix  Holt,  427. 

Ferdinand,  Count  Fathom,  278. 

Field  Place  :  Shelley,  357. 

Fielding,  Henry,  mentioned,  265,  278, 
414,  423  ;  account  of,  276-278  ;  Joseph 
Andrews,  276  ;  Tom  Jones,  277  ;  Ame- 
lia, 111. 

Fifteenth  century,  The,  82-88. 

Fight  at  Finnesburg,  The,  28. 

Fight  at  Maldon,  28,  35. 

Fingal,  Macpherson's,  307. 

Finn,  in  the  epic,  28. 

Finnesburg,  Trie  Fight  at,  28. 

Firth  of  Forth,  2. 

FitzGerald,  Edward,  459. 

Flamborough  Head,  map,  465,  Da. 

Fie  fro  the  Pres,10. 

Fletcher,  John,  150. 

Flodden  Field,  map,  465,  Da. 

Fool,  in  King  Lear,  144. 

Fool,  in  Twelfth  Night,  144. 

Ford,  John,  151. 

Foresters,  The,  449. 

Fors  Clavigera,  402,  405;  definition,  405. 

Forster,  John,  389. 

Fortunes  of  Nigel,  The,  339. 

Four  Elements,  The,  112. 

Four  Georges,  The,  425. 

FourP:s,  Hey  wood's,  113-115. 

Fox,  John,  108. 

Fra  Lippo  Lippi,  437. 

Fragments  of  Ancient  Poetry,  Macpher- 
son's, 307. 


Framley  Parsonage,  429. 

Franceschini,  Count  Guido,  in  The  Ring 

and  the  Book,  437,  438. 
Francis  of  Assisi,  110. 
Fraser's  Magazine,  398,  431. 
Frederick  the  Great,  Macautey'B  Essay  on, 

393  ;  Carlyle's  Life  and  Times  of,  400. 
French   influence,   period    of,  216,  222, 

246,  252. 
French  Revolution,  Carlyle's  History  of 

the,  400,  431. 
Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  Greene's, 

125. 
Friars,  The,  55,  56  ;   Wyclif 's  objections 

to,  56  ;  in  Chaucer's  time,  62. 
Friend,  The,  323. 

Fuller,  Thomas,   quoted,   57,  149  ;    ac- 
count of,  214,  215. 
Function  of  Criticism,  The,  410. 

Gadshill,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Galahad,  Sir,  449. 

Galatea,  Lyly's,  125. 

Gareth  and  Lynetie,  449. 

Garrick,  David,  283,  289,  296. 

Gaskell,  Elizabeth,  425. 

Gay,  John,  247,  257 ;  account  of,  264. 

Gebir,  388. 

Genesis,  C;iedmon's,  23. 

Genesis  and  Exodus,  Caedmon's,  23. 

Genesis  and  Exodus,  the  later,  54. 

Geneva  Bible,  The,  91. 

Genius  and  Character  of  Hogarth,  The, 
374. 

Gentleman' 's  Magazine,  The,  284. 

Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  48,  50. 

Geographical  names,  36. 

George-a-Greene,  Greene's,  125,  126. 

Germans,  The,  3,  4,  6. 

Gesta  Romanorum.  46. 

Giaour,  The,  338,  353,  354. 

Gibbon,  Edward,  mentioned,  2,  223,  301; 
account  of,  299-301 . 

GilfiVs  Love  Story,  Mr.,  426. 

Glasgow,  map,  405,  Ba. 

Glastonbury,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Gleeman,  The,  8,  9,  18,  27,  35,  44. 

Globe  Theatre,  The,  119,  122,  139. 

Gloucester,  map,  1,  Bd;  465,  Cc. 

Griomic  Verses,  quoted,  27. 

God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way,  308. 

Godwin,  Mary  (Mrs.  Shelley),  360. 

Godwin,  William,  334,  360. 

Goethe,  334,  337. 

Goetz  von  Berlichingen,  translated  by 
Scott,  337. 

Golden  Targe,  The,  86. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  mentioned,  238,  279, 
280,  289,  306,  395 ;  account  of,  292-299; 
school  days,  293;  benevolence,  293;  ir- 
responsibility, 294 ;  wanderings,  294, 
295;  Grub  Street,  295;  works,  296; 
death,  297;  study,  297-299. 

Good  Natured  Man,  The,  296. 

Goodrich  Castle,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Gorboduc,  116,  357. 

Gorboduc,  in  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth's 
History,  48. 


472 


INDEX 


Goring  Castle  :  Shelley,  357. 
Gothic  romance,  333,  334. 
Gowkr,  John,  mentioned,  54,  C9,  80;  ac- 
count of,  58-59  ;    printed  by  Caxton, 

84. 
Grace  Abounding,  210. 
Grail,  The  Holy,  449. 
Graamere  :    Wordsworth,  321 ;  De  Quin- 

cey,  381  ;  map,  405,  Ca. 
Grave,  T/ie,  Blair's,  204,  304. 
Gray,  Thomas,  mentioned,  220,  307,  310, 

333;  account  of,  304-30G. 
Great  Bible,  TV,  91. 
Great  Expectations,  420. 
Great  Grimsby,  map,  4G5,  Db. 
Great  Hoggarty  Diamond,  The,  423. 
Great  Marlow,  map,  405,  Dc. 
Great  Place,  Of,  Bacon's,  173. 
Great  Yarmouth,  map,  405,  Eb. 
Greek  Studies,  Pater's,  412. 
Greene,  Robert,    125,  120,  134 ;   attack 

of  Shakespeare,  137. 
Greenock,  map,  405,  Ba. 
Greenwich,  map,  405,  Dc. 
Gregory,   Pope,  his  Pastoral  Care,  32, 

34. 
Grendel,  in  Beowidf,   11-14,   10 ;  Gren- 

del's  mother,  12-14. 
Gretna  Green,  map,  405,  Ca. 
Groatsworlh  of  Wit,  Greene's,  137. 
Grocyn,  William,  83. 
Guernsey,  map,  405,  Cd. 
Guido  Franceschiui,  Count,  in  The.  Ring 

and  the  Book,  437,  438. 
Guildford,  map,  405,  Dc. 
Guinevere,  448,  449. 
Gulliver's  Travels,  244-247,  257. 
Gutenberg,  John,  83. 
Guy  Mannering,  338. 
Guy  of  Warwick,  44. 

Halifax,  map,  405,  Db. 

Hall,  Edward,  117,  143. 

Hallam,  Arthur  Henry,  447. 

Hallelujah,  Wither's,  202. 

Hamlet,  144,  140. 

Hampole,  map,  405,  Db. 

Hampole,  Richard  Holle  of,  54. 

Handlyng  Synne,  54. 

Hard  Ca*A,  429. 

Hard  Times,  420. 

Hardieamile,  335. 

Harold,  Bulwer's,  415  ;  Tennyson's,  449. 

Harrow,  map,  405,  lie. 

Hart-Leap  Well,  326. 

Hartlepool,  map,  466,  Da. 

Harwich,  map,  165,  Bo. 

HastiiK/s,  Warren,  Macaulay's  Essay  on, 

393.  ' 
Hastings,  map,  7,  Dd  ;  405,  Ec. 
Haunted  anil  the  Haunters,  The,  410. 
Hueeluck  the  J  lane,  45. 
Hawanicn,  map,  466,  Cb. 
Hawks,  8tephen,  87. 
Hawkeshead :    Wordsworth,  317;   map, 

4<;r.,  Ca. 
Hawortli,  map,  166,  Db. 
Hawtuoruden,  map,  466,  Ca. 


Hazlitt,  William,  quoted,  254  ;  men- 
tioned, 300  ;  account  of,  380. 

Healfdene,  in  lieowulf,  8. 

Heart  of  Midlothian,  The,  338. 

Helvellyii,  Mount,  map,  405,  Ca. 

Hengest,  4,  0,  19. 

Henry  Esmond,  416.  424,  425. 

Heorot,  the  hall  in  Beowulf,  11,  12,  16. 

Herbert,  George,  200,  202. 

Hereford,  map,  405,  Cb. 

Hereward  the  Saxon,  44. 

Hereward  the  Wake,  429. 

Heroes,  Hero  Worship,  and  the  Heroic  i>. 
History,  399. 

Heroic  couplet,  249. 

Herrick,  Robert,  205,  206. 

Hertford,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Hesperides,  Herrick's,  206. 

Hetty,  in  Adam  Bede,  420. 

Heywood,  John,  113-115. 

Heywood,  Thomas,  151. 

Hick  Scorner,  112. 

High  is  our  Calling,  Friend  (To  B.  R. 
Haydon),  324. 

Hilda,  AbbeS3  of  Whitby,  20;  Credinon, 

21,  22. 

Hind  and  the  Panther,  The,  219. 

Eipswell,  map,  7,  Cb;  465,  Da. 

Hit  Being  Arrived  at  the  Age  of  Twenty  - 

//n,e,  On,  Milton's,  183. 
Hisloria    Ecclesiastica,     21  ;      Alfred'* 

translation,  34  ;   account  of  Caadmon, 

22,  23. 

Hisloria  Regum  Britannia;,  48. 

Historical  plays,  117,  118. 

History  of  England,  Hume's,  299;  Ma- 
caulay's,  393,' 394,  395. 

History  of  the  Caliph  Vathek,  333. 

History  of  the  Kings  of  Britain,  48. 

History  of  the  Scottish  Reformation, 
Knox's,  108. 

History  of  the  World,  Raleigh's,  101. 

Hitchin,  inaji,  405,  Dc. 

Hobbes,  Thomas,  215. 

Hogarth,  Genius  and  Character  of,  374. 

Hogg,  James,  384. 

H.niNsHP.D,  Raphael,  117,  143. 

Holy  <  'i/i/,  The,  Bunyan's,  210. 

//«/,/  lining,  Puller's,  214. 

Holy  lirnil,  The,  47,  449. 

Holy  Island,  map,  405,  Bb. 

//c///  hiving,  Fuller's,  214. 

Holy  War,  The,  207,  21(1. 

Holyhead,  map,  405,  Bb. 

Homer  :  Chapman's,  300  ;  Dryden's,  220  ; 
Pope's,  255,  250  ;  influence  upon  Pope, 
250  ;  Keats,  300  ;  Ruskin,  403  ;  Brown- 
ing, 133  ;  mentioned,  437. 

I /inner.  On  First  Looking  into  Chap- 
man's, HOC. 

Hooker,  Richard,  108. 

Horace,  read  by  Prior,  264. 

Horaa,  4,  0,  19. 

Horsham,  map,  405,  Dc. 

Horton  :  Milton,  183  ;  map,  405,  Dc. 

Hours  of  Idleness,  362, 

Horn  of  Fame,  The,  68,  G9. 

House,  Browning's,  141. 


INDEX 


473 


House  of  Life,  The,  459. 

House  of  the  Wolfings,  The.,  459. 

How  to  Use  the  Court,  95. 

Howard,  Henry,  Earl  of  Surrey,  men- 
tioned, 89,  94,  98,  99;  account  of,  97,  98. 

Hrothgar,  in  Beowulf,  8, 11, 12, 13,  16,  29. 

Hudibrus,  207,  221. 

Hull,  map,  465,  Db. 

Human  Understanding,  Locke's  Essay 
Concerning,  216. 

Humber  River,  map.  465,  Dc. 

Hume,  David,  mentioned,  2,  223,  301 ; 
account  of,  299. 

Humphrey  Clinker,  278. 

Hunt,  Holman,  404. 

Hunt,  Leigh,  mentioned,  361,  362,  366, 
368,  399  ;  account  of,  369. 

Huntingdon,  map,  465,  Db. 

Hursley,  map,  465,  De. 

Huxley,  Thomas  Henry,  442. 

Hygelac,  in  Beowulf,  11, 13,  14. 

Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty,  358. 

Hymns  and  Songs  of  the  Church,  With- 
ers, 202. 

Hypaiia,  416,  429. 

Hyperion,  367. 

Iago,  in  Othello,  144. 
Idiot  Boy,  The,  320. 
Idler,  The,  281,  285. 
Idylls  of  the  King,  449. 
II  Filoslraio,  68. 
II  Penseroso,  184,  192,305. 
Mad,  Pope's,  255. 

Imaginary  Conversations,  388,  389,  411. 
Imaginary  Portraits,  411. 
In  Memoriam,  447,  448. 
Indian  Emperor,  Dryden's,  218. 
Indian  Penal  Code  and  Code  of  Crimi- 
nal Procedure,  Macaulay's,  392. 
Inductive  system,  The,  174. 
Interludes,  113-115. 
Ipswich,  map,  465,  Eb. 
Irish  Melodies,  368. 
Irish  Sketch  Book,  The,  423. 
Irish  tales,  Miss  Edgeworth's,  413. 
Is  therefor  Honest  Poverty,  314. 
Isabella,  367. 

Isle  of  Wight :  Tennyson,  450. 
It  is  Never  too  Late  to  Mend,  429. 
Italian  romance,  266. 
Italy,  Rogers's,  403. 
Ivanhoe,  336,  339  ;  study  of,  341-349. 

Jack  Wilton,  Life  of,  Nash's,  126. 

James  I.  of  Scotlaud,  86 ;  mentioned, 
351. 

James  Zee's  Wife,  437. 

Jane  Eyre,  425. 

Janet's  Repentance,  426. 

Jarrow  :  established,  20  ;  Bede,  30;  rav- 
aged by  the  Danes,  3t  ;  map,  7,  Cb  ; 
465,  Da. 

Jeames'  Diary,  423. 

Jeffrey,  Francis,  mentioned,  352,  388, 
392 ;  account  of,  387. 

Jersey,  map,  465,  Cd. 

Jew  of  Malta,  The,  126. 


Joan  of  Arc,  De  Quincey's,  384  ;  South- 
ey's,  332. 

John  Gilpin,  308. 

John  Woodvil,  373. 

Johnson,  Boswell's  Life  of,  288  ;  Macau- 
lay's  Essay  on,  393. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  mentioned,  223,  261, 
292,  293,  296,  299,  301,  306,  395,  399 ; 
quoted,  270  ;  account  of,  281-292;  child- 
hood, 281  ;  early  struggles,  282 ;  mar- 
riage, 282  ;  hack-writer,  283  ;  parlia- 
mentary reports,  284  ;  Rambler,  Idler, 
285 ;  The  Dictionary,  286  ;  Rasselas, 
287  ;  Bos  well,  287,  288  ;  the  Club,  289  ; 
Lives  of  the  Poets,  289  ;  death,  290 ; 
personality,  290  ;  study,  291. 

Jonathan  Wild,  Fielding's,  423. 

Jonson,  Ben,  mentioned,  105,  108,  130, 
134,  136,  142, 170, 179  ;  account  of,  147- 
150 ;  education,  147  ;  masques,  148 ; 
Jonson  and  Shakespeare,  148  ;  dedica- 
tion to  First  Folio,  149 ;  Timber,  149, 
150  ;  laureate,  150  ;  death,  150. 

Joseph  Andrews,  276. 

Journal  of  the  Plague  Year,  The,  271. 

Journal  to  Stella,  The,  242,  243. 

Journey  to  the  Hebrides,  290. 

Judith,  28,  29. 

Jules,  in  Pippa  Passes,  436. 

Juliet,  in  Romeo  and  Juliet,  144. 

Jutes,  The,  4,  5. 

Juvenal,  translated  by  Dryden,  220; 
imitated  by  Johnson,  284. 

Kabale  unci  Liebe,  Schiller's,  334. 

Kant,  Immanuel,  324. 

Keats,  John,  mentioned,  361,  362,  369, 
387,  431,  433,  460;  account  of,  365- 
369;  inspiration,  365 ;  at  school,  366; 
surgeon's  apprentice,  366  ;  Endymion, 
366 ;  third  volume,  367  ;  death,  367  ; 
burden  of  Keats,  368. 

Kenilworth,  339. 

Kenilworth :  festivities,  117 ;  Shake- 
speare, 131  ;  map,  465,  Db. 

Kent,  occupied  by  the  Jutes,  4 ;  ab- 
sorbed by  the  Saxons,  6. 

Keswick  :  Coleridge,  321 ;  Southey,  332 ; 
Shelley,  359 ;  map,  465,  Ca. 

Kidnapped,  430. 

Kilcolman  Castle,  Spenser's  home  in 
Ireland,  103. 

Kilmarnock,  map,  465,  Ba. 

King  Arthur,  stories  of,  44,  47  ;  in  Geof- 
frey of  Monmouth,  48 ;  Malory's 
Morte  Darthur,  84;  Faerie  Queene, 
104 ;  Milton,  185  ;  Tennyson,  449. 

King  David  and  Fair  Bethseba,  Peele's 
Love  of,  125. 

King  Henry  VII.,  Bacon's  History  of, 
174. 

King  Henry  VIII.,  150. 

King  Horn,  45,  46. 

King  James  Bible,  The,  91. 

King  John,  Bale's,  118. 

King  John,  The  Troublesome  Reiqn  of, 
118. 

Kings  Lynn,  map,  465,  Eb. 


474 


INDEX 


Kings'1  Treasuries,  406. 

Kinoslby,  Charles,  429. 

Kint  vi-f,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Kirkby  Wiske,  map,  465,  Da. 

Kirkcudbright,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Knight's   Tale,  Chaucer's,   quoted,  73  ; 

suggestions  for  study,  79-81. 
Knox,  John,  108,  399. 
Kmitsford,  map,  465,  Cb. 
Kubla  Khan,  323. 
Kyd,  Thomas,  126. 
Kynge's  Quhair,  The,  86. 

Lactantius,  24. 

Lady  of  Lyons,  The,  416. 

Lady  of  Shalotl,  The,  445,  449. 

Lady  of  the  Lake,  The,  337. 

Lady's  Magazine,  The,  295. 

Lake  Country,  The:  Wordsworth,  317; 
De  Quincey,  381. 

Lake  poets,  The,  321,  332,  387. 

Lalehain :  Arnold,  411. 

Lalla  Rookh,  368. 

V Allegro,  184,  192. 

Lamb,  Charles,  mentioned,  319, 366,  369, 
383,  431  ;  quoted  (Walton),  215  ;  ac- 
count of,  370-376;  childhood,  370;  an 
office  clerk,  371  ;  the  tragedy,  371;  bro- 
ther and  sister,  372 ;  literary  career, 
372 ;  Tales  from  Shakespeare,  373 
Essays  of  Elia,  374  ;  personality,  375 
death,  375  ;  study,  375,  376. 

Lamb,  Mary,  370-373,  375. 

Lamb's  Poems,  371,  372. 

Lamia,  367. 

Lancaster,  a  Roman  town,  3;  map, 465,  Ca. 

Lancelot  Gobbo,  in  Merchant  of  Venice, 
144. 

Land  of  the  Glittering  Plain,  The,  459. 

La M.i in,  Walter  Savage,  388,  389,  411. 

Landport,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Lanfranc,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  43. 

Lanoland,  William,  mentioned,  54,  82, 
69,  74,  3%  ;  account  of,  55,  56  ;  Puts 
the  Plowman's  Vision,  56 ;  Do  Wei,  Do 
Bet,  Do  Brst,  56;  versification,  56. 

Lanotoft,  Peter,  49. 

Language,  the  Knglish,  35-37  ;  the  Ro- 
man element,  36  ;  the  Cymric  element, 
36;  the  Latin  element,  37;  the  Danish 
element,  37  ;  officially  recognized  by 
the  Normans,  42,  74. 

Laodamia,  322,  327. 

Lara,  353. 

Laracor :  Swift,  239. 

Latt  Chronicle  of  Barset,  The,  429. 

L<ist  Days  of  Pompeii,  The,  415,  431. 

Latt  of  the  Barons,  The,  415. 

Last  Tournament,  77c  ,  449. 

Latimer,  John,  108. 

Latin  element  in  Knglish  :  place-names, 
3;  derivatives,  street,  /mrt,  wall,   villa, 
fosse,  3,  36  ;  ecclesiastical  terms,  37. 
Laiter-Day  Pamphlets,  400. 

Launre,  in  Tun  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  144. 

Launceston,  map,  166,  Be. 
Laureate   poeta:    Skelton,  87;    Jonson, 
150;  Drydeu,  219  ;  Southey,  332. 


Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  The,  337,  353, 

391. 
Layamon,  47-49. 
Lays  of  Ancient  Rome,  393. 
Le  Roman  <le  In  Rose,  66. 
Le  Sage,  278. 

Lear,  in  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  48. 
Lear,  in  King  Lear,  144. 
Ledger,  The  Public,  295. 
Leeds,  map,  465,  Db. 
Legend  of  Montrose,  The,  338. 
Legende  of  Goode  Women,  70;  quoted,  73. 
Leicester,  map,  405,  Db. 
Leofric,  Bishop  of  Exeter,  9,  26,  27. 
Leonora,  413. 

Letter  from  Italy,  Addison's,  226. 
Letter  on  a  Regicide  Peace,  302. 
Letter  to  Lord   Chesterfield,   Johnson's, 

286,  287. 
Leviathan,  Hobbes's,  215. 
Lewes,  George  Henry,  426. 
Lewis,  Matthew  Gregory,  334,  353. 
Lichfield  :  Johnson,  281  ;  map,  465,  Db. 
Life  and  Death  of  Jason,  The,  459. 
Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Macaulay,  391 . 
Life  of  Byron,  Moore's,  369. 
Lilia,  in  The  Princess,  445. 
Lincoln,  a  Roman  town,  3 ;  map,  7,  Cc  ; 

465,  Db. 
Lincolnshire,  Danish  place-names,  37. 
Lindisfarne,  seat  of   Bishop   Aidan,  20; 

map,  465,  Da. 
Lines  on  the  Euganean  Hills,  361. 
Lines  Written  in  Dejection,  361. 
Lissoy  :  Goldsmith,  293. 
Literature,  definition,  1. 
Literature  and  Dogma,  411. 
Little  Dorrit,  417,  420. 
Little  Nell,  in  Old   Curiosity  Shop,  419, 

422. 
Littlemore,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Liverpool,  map,  465,  Cb. 
Lives  of  the  English  Poets,  281,  289. 
Locke,  John,  216. 
Lockhart,    John    G.,   mentioned,    341, 

366,  445  ;  account  of,  387. 
Locrine,  48. 

Lodge,  Thomas,  126,  266. 
London  :  a  Roman  town,  3 ;  in  Chaucer's 

time,  63 ;  birthplace   of   Chaucer,  64 ; 

Caxton's  press,  84  ;  Sir  Thomas  More, 

89  ;  Spenser,  102  ;  the  drama.  130  ;  Ben 

Jonson,  147  ;  Bacon,  171  ;  Milton,  182  ; 

Pope,    250;  Defoe,   268;   Byron,   350; 

Keats,  365  ;  Lamb,  370  ;  Ruskin,  402  ; 

Dickens,  417,  418,  421  ;  Browning,  432 ; 

map,  7,  Cd  ;  465,  Dc. 
London,  Johnson's,  284. 
London  Gazette,  The,  228. 
London  Magazine,  The,  374,  382,  397. 
Longfellow,  H.  W.,  sonnet  on  Chaucer, 

60. 
Lord  of  the  Isles,  The,  338. 
Lothavr,  416. 

Lotos-Eaters,  Thr,  444,  445. 
Louth  :  Tennyson,  444  ;  map,  465,  Db. 
Lovelace,    Richard,   203 ;   quoted,   204, 

205. 


INDEX 


475 


Love's  Meinie,  406. 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  quoted  (Dryden),  220. 

Lowestoft,  map,  465,  Eb. 

Lucasta,  Lovelace's,  204,  205. 

Lucy  Gray,  320,  326. 

Ludlow,  map,  465,  Cb. 

Luigi,  in  Pippa  Passes,  436. 

Lusty  Juventus,  112. 

Lutterworth,  home  of  Wyclif,  57;  map, 
465  Db. 

Lycidas,  103,  184,  195. 

Lydoate,  John,  84,  86. 

Lyly,  John,  account  of,  122-125  ;  men- 
tioned, 266. 

Lyrical  Ballads,  The,  320,  321,  388. 

Macaulay,  T.  B.,  mentioned,  2,  302, 
410,  431;  quoted  (Bunyan),  211,  214; 
(Steele),  228;  (Temple),  238;  (John- 
son), 281,  283,  288,  289;  account  of, 
390-396;  childhood,  precocity,  391; 
Cambridge,  391 ;  public  life,  India,  pol- 
itics, 392 ;  Ussays,  393  ;  History,  393, 
394,  395 ;  death,  395  ;  study,  395. 

Macaulay,  Life  and  Letters  of  Lord,  391 , 
394. 

Macbeth,  127,  144. 

MacFlecknoe,  219,  257,  258. 

Machiavelli,  Macaulay's  Essay  on,  393. 

Mockery  End,  in  Hertfordshire,  372,  374. 

Macpherson,  James,  307. 

Madoc,  332. 

Maid's  Tragedy,  Beaumont  and  Fletch- 
er's, 150. 

Maidstone,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Maldon,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Ma/don,  Fight  at,  28,  35. 

Malmesbury,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Malory,  Thomas,  84. 

Malvern  Hills,  The,  home  of  Langland, 
55;  map,  465,  Cb. 

Man,  Isle  of,  map,  465,  Ba. 

Manchester:  DeQuincey,  377;  map,  465, 
Cb. 

Mandeville,  Sir  John,  49-51;  facsimile 
of  manuscript,  51. 

Manfred,  354. 

Manning,  Robert,  of  Brunne,  40;  Hand- 
lyng  Synne,  54. 

Mansfield  Park,  415. 

Margaret,  320,  326. 

Marius  the  Epicurean,  411. 

Marlow  :  Shelley,  360. 

Marlowe,  Christopher,  mentioned,  108, 
134, 136,  137,  148;  account  of,  126-128; 
plays,  126;  influence  on  Shakespeare, 
126;  his  spirit  and  his  "  mighty  line," 
127,  128. 

Marmion,  336,  337,  353. 

Marriage  of  Wit  and  Wisdom,  The,  112. 

Marston,  John,  151. 

Martin  Chuzzleivit,  420. 

Marvell,  Andrew,  202. 

Masques,  125,  147,  148. 

Massinoer,  Philip,  151. 

Master  of  Ballantrae,  The,  430. 

Maturity  of  the  novel,  The,  412. 

Maud,  448. 


Medal,  The,  219. 

Melema,  Tito,  in  Romola,  427. 

Melrose  Abbey,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Memoirs  of  a  Cavalier,  271. 

Memoirs  of  3tarlinus  Scriblerus,  247. 

Memorials  of  Italian  Tour,  Words- 
worth's, 431. 

Men  and  Women,  437. 

Mercia,  kingdom  of  the  Angles,  6. 

Meres,  Francis,  139,  147. 

Merry  Plays,  Heywood's,  113. 

Metaphysical  poets,  The,  200-206. 

Micawber,  Mr.,  in  David  Copperfield, 
418. 

Michael,  326. 

Midas,  Lyly's,  125. 

Middle  English  Period,  37,  42  ;  develop- 
ment of  Middle  English  literature,  43- 
54. 

Middlemarch,  427. 

Middleton,  Thomas,  151. 

3fidsummer  Night's  Dream,  105. 

Milford  Haven,  map,  465,  Be. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  426. 

Mill  on  the  Floss,  The,  427. 

Millais,  Sir  John,  404. 

Miller's  Daughter,  The,  444. 

Milston :   Addison,  225  ;  map,  465,  Dc. 

Milton,  John,  mentioned,  102,  103,  170, 
179,  180,  199,  201,  202,  206,  210,  215, 
305,  449  ;  account  of,  182-199 ;  educa- 
tion, 182 ;  blindness,  182,  187,  191 ; 
Cambridge,  182;  Horton,  183;  minor 
poems,  183,  184 ;  Lycidas,  184  ;  conti- 
nental travel,  184;  London,  185;  com- 
monwealth, 185  ;  prose  works,  186  ; 
Latin  Secretary,  186  ;  restoration,  187  ; 
marriage,  188  ;  Paradise  Lost,  188-191  ; 
Paradise  Regained,  191  ;  Samson  Ago- 
nistes,  191  ;  last  years,  191 ;  death,  192 ; 
study,  192-199 ;  L' Allegro,  II  Pense- 
roso,  192  ;  Lycidas,  195 ;  bibliography, 
199. 

Milton,  Macaulay's  Essay  on,  392,  393. 

Minstrel,  the  Norman,  44. 

Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border,  88. 

Miracle  plays,  The,  110-112,  117  ;  at 
Coventry  in  Shakespeare's  boyhood, 
131. 

Mistress,  The,  Cowley's,  203. 

Modern  Painters,  404. 

Moll  Flanders,  272. 

Monk,  The,  334. 

Monkwearmouth,  map,  7,  Cb  ;  465,  Da. 

Monmouth,  Geoffrey  of,  48. 

Monmouth,  Harry  (Prince  Hal),  in  Kino 
Henry  IV.,  144. 

Monmouth,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Montgomery,  map,  465,  Cb. 

Monthly  Review,  The,  295. 

Moor  Park  :  Temple,  Swift,  238  ;  map 
465,  Dc. 

Moore,  Thomas,  account  of,  368,  369. 

Moral  Essays,  Pope's,  259. 

Moral  Ode,  'The,  52. 

Moralities,  112,  113,  117,  118. 

Morals  in  the  age  of  Anne,  224. 

More,  Hannah,  390. 


476 


INDEX 


More,    Sir    Thomas,   mentioned,  83,  S9, 

90,  '244  ;  account  of,  89,  90. 
Morning  of  Christ's  Nativity,    Milton's 

Ode  on  the,  183. 
Morrii,  Dinah,  in  Adam  Bede,  426. 
Morkih,    William,  mentioned,  390,  404  ; 

account  of,  459,  460. 
Morte  Darthur,  Malory's,  84. 
Mortt  d' Arthur,  Tennyson's,  449. 
Mossgiel :  Burns,  311. 
Munrra  Pulveris,  405. 
Murder  as  One  of  the  Fine  Arts,  383. 
My  Novel,  416. 
Mysteries,  The,  110-112,  117. 
Mysteries  of  U<lotpho,  The,  334,  414. 
Mystery  of  Edwin  Drood,  The,  420. 
Mythology,  Teutonic,  4,  5. 

Napoleon,  Hazlitt's  Life  of,  386. 

Napoleon,  in  Carlyle's  Heroes,  399. 

Napoleon,  Lockhart's  Life  of,  387;  Scott's 
Life  of,  340. 

Naseby,  map,  465,  Db. 

Nash,  Thomas,  126,  266. 

Necessity  of  Atheism,  The,  359. 

Necromancer,  Skelton's,  1 13. 

Nelson,  Life  of,  Southey'e,  332. 

Nether  Stowey  :  Coleridge,  319;  map, 
465,  Cc. 

New  Atlantis,  The,  174. 

New  Forest,  map,  7,  Cd  ;  465,  Dc. 

New  learning,  The,  83,  89,  92,  102. 

New  Radnor,  map,  465,  Cb. 

New  poetry,  The,  316. 

Newark,  map,  465,  Db. 

Newcastle,  map,  465,  Da. 

Newcome,  Colonel,  in  The  Newcomrs, 
424. 

Newman,  John  Henry,  411. 

Newstead  Abbey :  Byron,  351  ;  map, 
465,  Db. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  216. 

Newton,  map,  465,  Cc. 

Nicholas  Nickleby,  417,  420.  422. 

Night  Thoughts,  Young's,  264. 

Nineteenth  century,  The,  316. 

Noble  Numbers,  Herrick's,  206. 

Nodes  Ambrosiano?,  387. 

Norfolk,  settled  by  AngleB,  5. 

Normans,  The,  37;  the  race,  41-43  ;  Nor- 
man-French, 42  ;  literature,  43  ;  trou- 
veres,  43  ;  romances,  44  ;  Layamon's 
Brut,  49;  ecclesiastical  literature,  54; 
mingling  with  the  English,  54 ;  the 
friars,  55. 

/Jorman-French,  The,  42. 
'  North,  Christopher,"  381,  387,  444. 

Northallerton,  ma]i,  465,  Da. 

Northanger  Abbey,  414. 

Northern  Antiquities,  Percy's,  307. 

Northmen,  The,  3,  6,  12,  13,  41  ;  reli- 
gion, 4,  5. 

Northumberland,  occupied  by  Angles, 
5,6;  home  of  Beowulf,  10;  home  of 
Cynewulf,  23  ;  Bede,  29. 

Northumbria,  Christianized,  19  ;  harried 
by  the  Panes.  :.|  ;   literature,  36. 

Norton,  Thomas,  116. 


Norwich,  map,  465,  Eb. 
Nottingham,  map,  465,  Db. 
Novel,  Development  of  the  English,  413. 
Novel,  rise  of  the  English,  265-281. 
Novel,  The,  273,  274. 
Novel,  the  first  English  (Pamela),  274. 
Novel,  the  maturity  of  the,  412. 
Nuneaton,  map,  465,  Db. 
Nun's  Priest's   Tale,   Chaucer's,  sugges- 
tions for  study,  81. 
Nulbrowne  Maid,  The,  88. 
Nutting,  320. 

O  Nightingale  !  thou  surely  art,  325. 
Objections  to  Friars,  57. 

OcCLEVE,  THOMA8,  86. 

Ode  on  a  Distant  Prospect  of  Eton  Col- 
lege, 305. 

Ode  on  a  Grecian  I'rn,  367,  368. 

Ode  on  Melancholy,  367. 

Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, 448. 

Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality, 
322. 

Ode  to  Dejection,  323. 

Ode  to  Duly,  321,327. 

Ode  to  Memory,  443. 

Ode  to  the  West  Wind,  361. 

Ode*,  Collins's,  304. 

Odyssey,  Pope'B,  256. 

CEnone,  441. 

Of  the  Courtier's  Life,  95. 

Of  the  Mean  and  Sure  Estate,  95. 

Oh  .'  for  a  closer  walk  ivith  God,  308. 

Old  Benchers  of  the  Middle  Temple,  The, 
370. 

Old  Cumberland  Beggar,  The.  320. 

Old  Curiosity  Shop,  The,  420. 

Old  Mortality,  338. 

Old  Whig,  The,  234. 

Oliver  Twist,  417,  420,  422,  431. 

Olney  :  Cowper,  308  ;  map,  465,  Db. 

Olney  Collection  of  Hymns,  The,  308. 

Omar  Khayyam,  459. 

On  the  Receipt  of  my  Mother's  Picture, 
309. 

On  the  Sonnet,  96. 

One  Word  More,  437. 

Ophelia,  in  Hamlet,  144. 

Oriental  Eclogues,  304. 

Origin  of  Species,  The,  443. 

Orlando  Furioso,  Greene'B,  125. 

Orley  Farm,  429. 

Orm,  53. 

Or  malum.  The,  53. 

Orosius,  Alfred's  translation,  33. 

Osborne,  George,  in  Vanity  Fair,  424. 

Ossianic  fragments,  307. 

Othello,  144,  146. 

Ottery,  St.  Mary's :  Coleridge,  319  ;  map, 
465,  Cc. 

Ottima,  in  Pippa  Passes,  436. 

Our  Mutual  friend,  420. 

Ovid,  translated  by  Gavin  Douglas,  86; 
used  by  Shakespeare,  143;  translated 
by  Dryden,  220  ;  read  by  Pope,  250. 

Owl,  The,  444. 

Oxford,  map,  7,  Cd  ;  465,  Dc. 


INDEX 


477 


Oxford  Gazelle,  The,  228. 
Oxford  in  the  Vacation,  374. 

Pageants,  110. 

Palace  of  Art,  Th«,  445. 

Palace  of  Honor,  The,  86. 

Palamon  and  Arcite,  Dryden's,  220. 

Palladit  Tamia,  Meres's,  139. 

Pallas :  Goldsmith,  293. 

Pamela,  274,  275, 276. 

Pandoslo,  Greene's,  126. 

Panegyric,  upon  Cromwell,  Waller's, 
206. 

Pantisocracy,  319,  332. 

Paracelsus,  432,  434,  435. 

Paradise  Lost,  184,  185,  391,  437;  de- 
scribed, 188-191  ;  facsimile  of  first 
paje,  189  ;  Paradise  Regained,  191. 

Parallelism  in  Anglo-Saxon  verse,  18. 

Paris  Sketch  Book,  The,  423. 

Parisina,  353. 

Parlement  of  Foules,  68  ;   quoted,  73. 

Parliamentary  reports,  Johnson's,  284. 

Parnell,  Thomas,  257. 

Parties  in  the  age  of  Anne,  224. 

Passing  of  Arthur,  The,  449. 

Past  and  Present,  400. 

Pastime  of  Pleasure,  The,  87. 

Paston,  map,  465,  Ed. 

Pastoral  Care,  Pope  Gregory's,  32,  34. 

Pastoralis  Cura,  33,  34. 

Pastorals,  Pope's,  103,  251. 

Pater,  Walter,  411,  412. 

Patient  Grissel,  88. 

Patronage,  413. 

Pattison,  Mark,  255. 

Paul  Clifford,  415. 

Pauline,  434. 

Paulinus,  the  missionary,  19. 

Peckham :  Browning,  433. 

Peels,  George,  125,  126,  134,  137. 

Peg  Woffington,  429. 

Pelham,  415. 

Pelleas  and  Ettarre,  449. 

Pembroke,  map,  465,  Be. 

Pendennis,  424. 

Penitential  Psalms,   paraphrase  of,  95. 

Penshurst,  Sidney's  birthplace.  98;  map, 
465,  Ec. 

Penzance,  map,  465,  Be. 

Pepts,  Samuel,  215. 

Percy,  Harry  (Hotspur),  in  King  Henry 
IV.,  144,  146. 

Percy,  Thomas  (BiBhop),  mentioned,  88, 
295;  account  of,  307. 

Perdita,  in  The  Winter's  Tale,  144. 

Peregrine  Pickle,  278. 

Periodical  literature,  228. 

Periods  of  European  Culture,  Carlyle's, 
399. 

Persius,  translated  by  Dryden,  220. 

Persuasion,  415. 

Peter  Bell,  320. 

Peterborough,  established,  20 ;  map,  7, 
Cc;  465,  Db. 

Petersfleld,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Petrarch,  Francis,  66,  82,  97. 

Pevense.v,  map,  465,  Ec. 


Peveril  of  the  Peak,  339. 

Phene,  in  Pippa  Passes,  436. 

Philaster,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's,  150. 

Philosophical  Inquiry  into  our  Ideas  of 
the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  Burke's, 
301. 

Phoenix,  The,  of  Cynewulf,  24,  27; 
quoted,  20,  21. 

Picaresque  novel,  The,  267. 

Pickwick  Papers,  420,  421,  431. 

Pictures  from  Italy,  420. 

Piers  the  Plowman's  Vision,  55,  56. 

Pilgrim's  Progress,  The,  210,  244,  267, 
270,  391,  403  ;  described,  211-214  ;  fac- 
simile of  title-page,  213;  place  in  fic- 
tion, 267. 

Pindarique  Odes,  Cowley's,  203. 

Pip,  in  Great  Expectations,  422. 

Pippa  Passes,  435,  436. 

Pirate,  The,  339. 

Pitt,  Macaulay's  Essay  on,  393. 

Place-names:  Latin,  3,  36;  Celtic,  36; 
Danish,  37. 

Plain  Man's  Pathway,  The,  208. 

Plato  and  Platonism,  412. 

Plautus,  115,  139,143. 

Plebeian,  The,  234,  235. 

Plutarch,  143 ;  influence  on  Johnson, 
282. 

Plymouth,  map,  465,  Be. 

Poema  Morale,  52. 

Poems  by  Alfred  Tennyson  (1832),  444. 

Poems  by  Two  Brothers,  443. 

Poet,  The,  444. 

Poet's  Mind,  The,  444. 

Poet-laureate:  Skelton,  87;  Jonson,  150; 
Dryden,  219;  Southey,  332;  Words- 
worth, 322;  Tennyson,  446. 

Poetry,  Stedman's  definition,  327. 

Poetry  of  architecture,  The,  431. 

Politics,  participation  in,  223. 

Pope,  Alexander,  mentioned,  230,  234, 
246,  247,  264,  265,  281,  284,  289,  293, 
304,  306,  352,  403,  432;  account  of, 
249;  his  art  and  its  limitations,  249; 
boyhood,  250;  Pastorals,  251;  Wind- 
sor Forest,  251,  262;  Essay  on  Criti- 
cism, 252,  253;  Rape  of  the  Lock,  253, 
262 ;  Eloise  to  Abelard,  254 ;  Homer, 
255;  Twickenham,  256  ;  Dunciad,  257, 
258;  Moral  Essays,  259,  260;  minor 
poems,  260  ;  death,  261 ;  appreciation, 
261  ;  study,  261-264;  school  of,  264. 

Portia,  in  Julius  Ccesar,  144. 

Portia  (of  Belmont),  in  Merchant  of 
Venice,  144. 

Portsmouth :  Dickens,  418 ;  map,  465, 
Dc. 

Poyser,  Mrs.,  in  Adam  Bede,  427. 

Practice  of  Piety,  The,  208. 

Prseterila,  403,  406. 

Praise  of  Chimney-Sweepers,  The,  374. 

Prelude,  The,  317,  318,  320,  322,  327. 

Pre-Raphaelites,  The,  404,  459. 

Pre-Raphaelitism,  404. 

Present  State  of  Polite  Learning  in  Eu 
rope.  Goldsmith's,  295. 

Prickle  of  Conscience,  54. 


478 


INDEX 


Pride  and  Prejudice,  414,  415. 

Princess,  The,  445,  44(1. 

Principia,  Newton's,  '216. 

Printing,  invention  of,  83. 

Prior,  Matthew,  239;  account  of,  264. 

Pro  1'cpulo  Anglirnno  Defensio,  Mil- 
ton's, 186,  187. 

Process  of  the  Seven  Sages,  4(5. 

Progress  of  Poesy,  The,  306. 

Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  71,  73  ; 
suggestions  for  study,  76-79. 

Prometheus  Unbound,  361. 

Prose,  Anglo-Saxon,  29-35. 

Prose,  Augustan  age  of  English,  222-248; 
characteristics,  223. 

Prose  composition  later  than  verse,  29. 

Proserpina,  406. 

Prospice,  437. 

Prothalamion,  Spenser's,  105. 

Psalms,  paraphrase  of,  97. 

Psalms  of  David,  Wither's,  202. 

Public  Intelligencer,  The,  228. 

Punch,  423. 

Puritan  England,  108. 

Puritan  movement,  The,  179-199. 

Puritan  types,  180. 

Puritanism,  rise  of,  179;  fall  of,  181. 

Put  Yourself  in  his  Place,  429. 

Putney  :  Gibbon,  299. 

Quarles,  Francis,  201. 

Quarterly  Review,  367,  387,  445. 

Queen  Mab,  359,  361. 

Queen  Mary,  449. 

Queen  of  the  Air,  The,  406. 

Queens'  Gardens,  406. 

Quenlin  Durward,  339. 

Quilp,  in  Old  Curiosity  Shop,  421. 

Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,  437. 

Racedown :  Wordsworth,  319. 

Radcliffe,  Mrs.  Anne,  333,  334,  353. 

Raleioh,  Sir  Walter,  account  of,  100, 
101  ;  mentioned,  103,  104,  108. 

Ralph  Roister  Doister,  115. 

Rambler,  The,  281,  285. 

Rape  of  Lucrece,  The,  138. 

Rape  of  the  Lock,  The,  253. 

Rasselas,  281,  287. 

Reade,  Charles,  429. 

Reader,  The,  235. 

Reading,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Realism  :  Defoe's,  271 ;  Richardson's, 
275 ;  Fielding's,  277. 

Realism  and  romanticism,  413,  416,  430. 

Realistic  movement.  The,  416. 

Recluse,   The,  322,  327. 

Recollections  of  the  Last  Days  of  Byron 
and  Shelley,  Trelawney'B,  362. 

RecuyeU  of  the  Eistoryes  of  Troye,  84. 

Redgauntlet,  335,  339. 

Reflections  on  the  French  Revolution,  302. 

A',  ligio  Laid,  219. 

ReligiO  M'diri,  ITS,  371. 

Religions  revivals  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury, 64. 

Reliqurs  of  Ancient  English  Poetry,  88, 
295,  307. 


Remorse  of  Conscience,  54. 
Renaissance,  The,  Pater's,  412. 

Renascence,  The,  67,  82,  89. 
Resolution  and  ]>i<l< /»  ndence,  326. 
Restoration,  The,  179,  187,  206-221,  222. 
Revenge,  The,  Young's,  264. 
i;,,i,w,  Defoe's,  228,  229,  268. 
Revival  of  letters,  The,  83. 
Revolt  of  Islam,  The,  359,  360. 
Revolt  of  the  Tart, n-s,  The,  383,  431. 
Revolutionary  Period,  The,  310,  332,  350. 
Revolutionary  poets,  The,  350-369. 
Revolutions  (if  Modem  Europe,  Carlyle's, 

390. 
Rhyme  royal  of  James  I.,  86. 
Rhymed  couplet,  The,  206,  220,  249. 
Richard  II.,  Shakespeare's,  69. 
Richard  III.,  Latin  play,  118;  the  true 

tragedy  of,  118;  Shakespeare's,  118. 
Richardson,   Samuel,    mentioned,    225, 

265;     account    of,    274-276;    Pamela, 

274,   275;   Clarissa  Harlowe,   275;   Sir 

Charles  Orandison,  276,  277. 
Richelieu,  416. 
Richmond,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Rienzi,  415,  431. 
Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  The,  320, 

323. 
Ring  and  the.  Book,  The,  437. 
Rob  Roy,  338. 
Robert  of  Gloucester,  49. 
Robertson,  William,  301. 
Robin  Hood,  88;  ballads  of,  47. 
Robinson  Crusoe,  270,  271,  272,  403. 
Rochester,  map,  7,  Dd;  465,  Ec. 
Roderick,  332. 
Roderick  Random,  278. 
Rogers's  Italy,  403. 
Rogue  romance,  The,  226. 
Rokeby,  337,  338. 
Roland,  Song  of,  42. 
Rolle,  Richard,  of  Hampole,  54. 
Roman  wall  (Hadrian's),  map,!,  Bb. 
Roman  words  in  English,  3,  36. 
Romance,  gothic,  333,  334. 
Romances,  the  French,  44. 
Romans,  The,  2,  3. 
Romantic  movement  in  English  poetry, 

303-314,  316. 
Romantic   movement  in  English  fiction, 

333-350. 
Romantic  movement,  the  new,  130. 
Romanticism,  303. 
Romanticism,  German,  334. 
Romanticism  and  realism,  413,  416,  4::<> 
Romanticism  in  English  prose,  369-389. 
Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  The,  66. 
Romeo,  146. 
Romeo  ami  Juliet,  105. 
Romola,  416,  427. 
Rosalind,  in  As  You  Like  It,  144. 
Rotalynde,  Lodge's,  126. 
Rosamund  (inn,  and  Old  /Hind  Margaret, 

.".73. 
Rossetti,    Dante   Gabrif.l,   mentioned, 

int.  ICO;   account  of,  459. 
Rothley   Temple :    Macaulay,  390;   map, 

465,  Db. 


INDEX 


479 


Rousseau,  399. 

Rowley,  William,  151. 

Rowley  forgeries,  The,  307. 

Roxana,  272. 

Rubaiyal,  The,  459.   • 

Rugby,  map,  465,  Db. 

Rule  Britannia,  265. 

Rule  of  the  Anchoresses,  53. 

Runiiimede,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Ruskin,  John,  mentioned,  2,  390,  410, 
459  ;  account  of,  402-410  ;  parentage, 
402;  boyhood,  403;  the  University,  403, 
404;  Modem  Painters,  404;  art  criti- 
cism, 404;  political  economist,  ethical 
teacher,  405;  miscellaneous  works,  406 ; 
color  sense,  407  ;  St.  George's  Guild, 
407;  socialistic  influence,  408;  study, 
408-410. 

Ruth,  320,  326. 

Rydal  Mount:  Wordsworth,  321;  map, 
465,  Ca. 

Ryeland,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Sackville,  Thomas,  Earl  of  Dorset,  116, 
357. 

Sacrifice,  The,  Herbert's,  201. 

Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Reverend  Amos  Bar- 
ton, The,  426. 

Saffron  Walden,  map,  465,  Ec. 

St.  Albans:  Bacon,  172,  174;  map,  465, 
Dc. 

Si.  Andreas,  Cyuewulf's,  24,  27. 

St.  Asaph,  map,  405,  Cb. 

St.  George's  Guild,  407. 

St.  Guthlac,  Cyuewulf's,  24,  27. 

St.  Guthlac,  unknown  writer's,  27. 

St.  Juliana,  Cynewulf's,  24,  27. 

St.  Ronan's  Well,  339. 

Saint's  Everlasting  Rest,  The,  Baxter's, 
214. 

Salisbury,  map,  7,  Cd;  465,  Dc. 

Salsette  and  Elephanta,  403. 

Samson  Agonisles,  191,  260. 

Sandyknowe :  Scott,  335. 

Sapho  and  Phao,  Lyly's,  125. 

Sark,  map,  465,  Cd. 

Sartor  Resartus,  398,  399. 

Satire,  The,  216,  220;  Swift,  223,  237, 
239,  240;  Gulliver's  Travels,  244-246; 
Scriblerus  Club,  247;  Pope,  249;  Dun- 
dad,  257;  London,  284;  Walpole,  333; 
Wyatt,  95. 

Satirist,  spirit  of  the,  246. 

Saul,  437. 

Sawyer,  Bob,  in  Pickwick  Papers,  418. 

Saxons,  The,  4,  5,  41,  44;  East  Saxons,  5  ; 
West  Saxons,  5,  6;  The  Chronicle,  35, 
36;   South  Saxons,  5. 

Sayings  of  Alfred,  53. 

Sea  Fell,  map,  405,  Ca. 

Scarborough,  map,  465,  Da. 

Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,  426. 

Schiller,  Carlyle's  Life  of,  397. 

Schiller,  influence  on  Coleridge,  323;  on 
Southey,  332;  on  "  Monk"  Lewis,  334. 

Scholar  Gypsy,  The,  411. 

School  Master,  The,  92,  93. 

School  of  Pope,  The,  264. 


Scop,  The,  8,  28,  29. 

Scotch  poets,  The,  of  fifteenth  century, 
84  ;  Dunbar,  Douglas,  86. 

Scotland,  History  of,  Robertson's,  301. 

Scott,  Life  of,  Lockhart's,  387. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  mentioned,  86,  88, 
354,  366,  369,  3S7,  391,  403,  413,  414, 
415,  42S,  431;  account  of,  334-350;  par- 
entage, childhood,  335  ;  school  days, 
law  studies,  336;  marriage,  337;  trans- 
lations and  ballads,  337;  metrical  ro- 
mances, 337,  338;  Waverley,  338;  Ivan- 
hoe,  339  ;  baronetcy,  339  ;  business 
failure,  340  ;  Italy,  340  ;  death,  341  ; 
study,  341-350. 

Scotus,  John  Erigena,  31. 

Scriblerus  Club,  The,  247,  257,  260,  264, 
283,  289. 

Seafarer,  The,  19,  27. 

Seasons,  Thomson's,  256,  264,  265,  304. 

Sebald,  in  Pippa  Passes,  436. 

Second  Defense,  Milton's,  186. 

Sedley,  Jos.,  424. 

Sejanus,  136,  148. 

Selborne,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Selkirk,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Sellwood,  Emily  (Mrs.  Tennyson),  445. 

Seneca,  116,  139. 

Sensitive  Plant,  The,  361. 

Sentimental  Journey,  The,  279. 

Sesame  and  Lilies,  406. 

Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture,  The,  404. 

Seventeenth  century,  The,  170-221. 

Severn,  The  :  Layamon,  48  ;  Wyclif,  57  ; 
map,  465,  Cc. 

Shakespeare,  Lectures  on,  Coleridge's, 
323;  in  Carlyle's  Heroes,  399;  Tale* 
from,  373;    The  Tragedies  of,  374. 

Shakespeare,  plays  of,  mentioned  :  All 's 
Well,  139,  145 ;  Antony  and  Cleopatra, 
141 ;  As  You  Like  It,  125,  126,  136, 
138,  156  ;  Comedy  of  Errors,  136,  143  ; 
Coriolanus,  141;  Cymbeline,  141,  143; 
Hamlet,  119,  121,  136,  139,  159;  Julius 
Ccesar,  139,  157;  King  Henry  IV.,  138; 
King  Henry  V.,  118,  120,  121,  138; 
King  Henry  VI,  118,  136,  137;  King 
Henry  VIII,  141,  150;  King  John, 
118,  120,  137;  King  Richard  II,  69, 
138,  139;  King  Richard  III,  118,  138, 
139;  Lear,  139;  Love's  Labour  's  Lost, 
125,  136,  143,  152;  Macbeth,  139,  143, 
163;  Measure  for  Measure,  139,  140; 
Merchant  of  Venice,  138,  155;  Merry 
Wives,  125,  138,  143  ;  Biidsummer 
Night's  Dream,  105,  125,  136,  143 ; 
Much  Ado,  138;  Othello,  139;  Pericles, 
141 ;  Romeo  and  Juliet,  105,  120,  137, 
139;  Taming  of  the  Shrew,  138;  Tem- 
pest, 141,  143,  146;  Timon,  141;  Titus 
Andronicus,  136;  Troilus  and  Cressi- 
da,  140;  Twelfth  Night,  138;  Two  Gen- 
tlemen, 130;  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  150; 
Winter's  Tale,  126,  141. 

Shakespeare,  William,  mentioned,  108, 
117,  118,  121,  126,  150,  151,  170,  179, 
183,  249,  399,  403,  450  ;  account  of,  129- 
168  ;  his  company,  122  ;  Globe  Theatre, 


480 


INDEX 


122;  Lyly's  influence,  125  ;  Marlowe's 
influence,   126,   127;    parentage,    130; 
boyhood,  130  ;  school,  130  ;  picturesque 
environment,    131  ;    marriage,      132  ; 
spirit  of  the  age,  132  ;  in  London,  13G  ; 
an    actor,    130  ;    first     period,     136  ; 
Greene's  attack,  137  ;   the  poems,  138  ; 
second  period,  138  ;  coat  of  arms,  138  ; 
purchase  of  New  1'lace,  138 ;  publica- 
tion of  plays,  1:58  ;  quarto  texts,  13'J  ; 
Palladis  Tamia,  130;  Globe  Theatre, 
139  ;  third  period,  130  ;  the  tragedies, 
139,  140  ;  investments,  140 ;  the  King's 
Players,  140  ;  retirement,  141 ;  fourth 
period,  141 ;  sonnets,  141  ;  last  years, 
142  ;  death,  142  ;  place,  142  ;  art,  143  ; 
plots,  143 ;  invention,  143  ;  characters, 
143 ;  philosophy,   145 ;    purpose,    14(5  ; 
Ben  Jonson,  148;  Fletcher,  150;  study, 
151-168  ;  title-page  of  Hamlet,  153. 
Shakespeare's  predecessors,  122. 
Sharpe,  William,  433. 
Sharphani  Park,  map,  465,  Cc. 
She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  296. 
.She  teas  a  Phantom  of  Delight,  321. 
Sheffield,  map,  465,  Db. 
Shelley,  Pebcy  Bysshe,  mentioned,  354, 
305,  366,  368,  369,  431,  433 ;  account  of, 
357-365;    childish    imagination,    357  ; 
school  days,    358;    "Mad     Shelley," 
358;  Oxford,  358;   marriage  with  Har- 
riet Westbrooke,  359;   in  Ireland,  359; 
Queen  Mab,  359;  Alas/or,  360;  Revolt 
of  Islam,  360;  separation  from   Har- 
riet and  marriage  with  Mary  Godwin, 
300;    departure    from    England,  360; 
lyrics,  361;  Prometheus  Unbound,  The 
Cenci,  Adonais,'A61;  death,  362;  study, 
362-305. 
Shepherd's  Calendar,  The,  103,  134,  251. 
Shepherds  Hunting,  Wither's,  202. 
Shepherd's  Week,  Gay's,  264. 
Sheridan,  Richard  B.,  298,  301. 
Sherwood  ForeBt,  map,  4C5,  Db. 
Shirley,  425. 

Shrewsbury,  map,  465,  Cb. 
Shylock,  in  Merchant  of  Venire,  127,  144. 
Sidney,  Sib   Philip,  mentioned,  8S,  102, 
104,  105,  134,  266,  357;  account  of,  98- 
100. 
Siege  of  Corinth,  The,  353. 
Silas  Marner,  127. 
Silez  Scintillans,  Vaughan's,  202. 
Simon  Lee,  320. 

Sir  Charles  Grandison,  275,  276. 
Sir  Launcelot  and  Queen  Guinevere,  449. 
Sir  Launcelot  Graves,  278. 
Sir  Roger  de  Coverlet/,  233,  235,  236,  207. 
Sir  Toby  Belch,  in  Twelfth  A'ight,  141, 

146. 
Sir  Tristram,  45. 
Sittingbourne,  map,  465,  Ec. 
Sixteenth  century,  The,  89-169;   table  of 

authors,  169. 
Skelton,  John,  account  of,  87;  The  N"(  <'- 

romancer,  113. 
Sketches  <■!'  Lite  and  Manners,  Do  Quin- 
cey'K. 


Skiddaw,  Mount,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Skylark,  The,  361. 

Sleep  and  Poetry,  367. 

Small  House  at  Allinyton,  The,  429. 

Smike,  in  Nicholas  Nickleby,  421. 

Smollett,  Tobias,  278,  295;   account  of, 

278. 
Snowdon,  mountain,  map,  465,  Bb. 
Sohrab  and  Rustum,  411. 
Solway  Firth,  map,  465,  Ca. 
Somersby :   T«unyson,    443  ;  map,    465, 

Eb. 
Song  for  St.  Cecilia's  Day,  A,  220. 
Sonnet,  Scorn  not  the,  141. 
Sonnet,    The,    94,   96;    Spenser's,    104; 

Shakespeare's,  141. 
Sonnets  from  the  Portuguese,  437. 
Sordello,  435. 

Southampton,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Southey,  Robebt,   mentioned,  317,  319, 
321,  359,  373,  381,  383,  408;  aocount  of, 
332,    333;    Pantisocracy,   332;    works, 
332;  poet-laureate,  332. 
Southgate  :  Leigh  Hunt,  369. 
South-Sea  House,  The,  374. 
Spanish  romance,  266. 
Spanish  Tragedy,  The,  126. 
Specimen  of  an  Induction  to  a  Poem, 

365. 
Specimens  of  English  Dramatic  Poets, 

374. 
Spectator,    The,  225,  229,   231,  285;  de- 
scribed, 232,  233. 
Sjieculum  Meditanlis,  59. 
Speech  on   Conciliation  with    America, 

302. 
Spencer,  Herbert,  426,  442. 
Spenser,  Edmund,  mentioned,  100,  101, 
130,  134,  250,  251,  305,  449;  account  of, 
102-106;  friendship  with  Sidney,  102; 
The  Shepherd's   Calendar,   102,    103; 
Ireland,  103;    The  Faerie  Queene,  104; 
death,  106;  Btudy,  106,107. 
Spenserian  stanza,  The,  106,  265. 
Squeers,  in  Nicholas  Nickleby,  421. 
Squire  Western,  in  Tom  Jones,  277. 
Stafford,  map,  465,  Cb. 
Stamford  Bridge,  map,  465,  Db. 
Stanzas  from  the   Grande    Chartreuse, 

■111. 
Stedman,  E.  C,  quoted,  327,  445. 
Steele,   Richabd,   mentioned,  223,  239, 
241,   207,  270,  2S6,  289,  292,   374;   ac- 
count of ,  225-237 ;   Horse  Guards,  227; 
official  gazetteer,   227;    The  Christian 
Hero,  227;  periodical  literature,  228; 
coffee-houses,  230;   Toiler,  232;  Spec- 
tator, 232,  233;    journalistic  schemes, 
234,  235;  death,  235. 
Stephen,  Leslie,  254. 
Step*  to  the  Temple,  Crashaw's,  202. 
Stirling,  Life  of  John,  400. 
Sterne",   Lawrence,   278,  279,  414,  416; 

account  of,  278,  279. 
Stevenson,  Robert  Louis,  430. 
Sliyne,  Lord,  in  Vanity  Fair,  424. 
Stillington,  map,  465,  Da. 
Stoke  Poges:  Gray,  305;  map,  466,  Do. 


INDEX 


481 


Stonehenge,  map,  7,  Cd;  465,  Dc. 

Stones  of  Venice,  -104. 

Strafford,  435. 

Strange  Story,  A ,  41G. 

Stratford  ou  Avon  :   Shakespeare,  130  ; 

map,  465,  Db. 
Strawberry  Hill,  map,  4C5,  Dc. 
Streoueshalh  (Whitby),  founded  by  Hil- 
da, 20;  Caedmon,  21.  *" " 

Study    suggestions :    The    Anglo  -  Saxon 
Period,  37-40;    Chaucer,  75-81 1   Sp— 
ser,    106,  107;   the  dj&uja,   128,    129; 
Shakespeare,  151-169r"Bacon,  175-178; 
Milton,   192-199  ;    Addison,    235-237  ; 
Pope,  261-2G4  ;    the    novel,  280,  281  ; 
Johnson,   291,    292 ;    Goldsmith,  297- 
299  ;   Burns,    313,    314  ;   Wordsworth, 
328-332  ;  Scott,  341-350  ;   Byron,  355- 
357;  Shelley,  362-365;  Lamb,  375;  De 
Quincey,  385,  386;  Macaulay,  395,  396; 
Carlyle,   401,   402  ;    Ruskin,   408-410; 
Browning,   438-442  ;    Tennyson,    451- 
458. 
Suckling,  Sib  John,  203;  quoted,  204. 
Suffolk,  settled  by  Angles,  5. 
Sunday,  Herbert's,  201. 
Surrey,  Earl  of  (Henry  Howard),  men- 
tioned, 89,  94,  98,  99;  account  of,  97,  98. 
Suspiria  de  Profundis,  384. 
Sutton,  map,  465,  Da. 
Swan  Theatre,  interior  of  the,  123. 
Swansea,  map,  465,  Cc. 
Swift,  Jonathan,  mentioned,  2,  223,  230, 
234,   235,  254,  257,  258,  261,  264,  265, 
285,289,293;  account  of,  237-248;  ini- 
periousness,   237 ;    youth,  238  ;    a  de- 
pendent,   238;    Sir    William    Temple, 
238;    a  Churchman,  239;    first  satires, 
239-241;  Bickerslaff,1\\.;  a  politician, 
242;  Journal  to  Stella,  242,  243;  Dra- 
pier  Letters,   244  ;   Gulliver's  Travels, 
244-246;  spirit  of  the  satirist,  246;  the 
Scriblerus  Club,  247;  death,  247;   bib- 
liography, 248;    friendship  with  Pope, 
254,  255;  edited  by  Scott,  337. 
Swift,  The  (ashes  of  Wyclif),  57. 
Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles,  460. 
Swineshead  Abbey,  map,  465,  Db. 

Tabard  Inn,  The,  64. 

Table  Talk,  Coleridge's,  323. 

Tables  Turned,  The,  320. 

Taillefer,  42. 

TaiVs  Magazine,  383,  384. 

Tale  of  a  Tub,  The,  240. 

Tale  of  Two  Cities,  A,  416,  420. 

Tales  from  Shakespeare,  373. 

Talisman,  The,  339. 

Tamburlaine,  126,  134. 

Task,  The,  309. 

Taller,    The,  mentioned,  225,  228,  229, 

231,  285;  described,  232. 
Taunton,  map,  465,  Cc. 
Tavistock,  map,  465,  Be. 
Taylor,  Jeremy,  214. 
Temple,  Sir  William,  238. 
Tennyson,  Alfred,  mentioned,  387,  390, 

432,  459  ;  account  of,  442-458  ;  "  Eng- 


land's voioe,"  442 ;  birth  and  early 
life,  443 ;  Poems  by  Two  Brothers,  443  ; 
the  University,  early  volumes,  444;  the 
reviews,  444,  445  ;  The  Princess,  445  ; 
the  year  1850,  440  ;  poet-laureate,  446 ; 
In  Memoriam,  447,  448 ;  laureate 
verse,  448 ;  Idylls  of  the  King,  449 ; 
dramas.  449.  450;  peerage,  450;  last 
J  450,   451  ;   study, 


~  451-458 


Tiiiiijwhi,  niiBrlriTnrnfiri  443. 

Tennyson,  Frederick,  443. 

Tennyson,  Hallam,  448. 

Tennyson,  Life  of  Alfred,  Lord,  by  his 

son,  448. 
Terence,  115. 

Teutons,  The,  3,  4,  5  ;  their  fatalism,  20. 
Tewkesbury,  map,  465,  Cc. 
Thackeray,  W.  M.,  mentioned,  231,  237, 
428,  431 ;  quoted,  Addison,  227  ;  Swift, 
247  ;  account  of,  422-425  ;  unimportant 
works,  423;   Vanity  Fair,  423;    other 
great  novels,  424 ;  lectures  in  Amer- 
ica, 425;  death,  425. 
Thalaba,  332. 

Thames  River,  map,  465,  Ec. 
Thanet,    Island    of :    occupied    by    the 

Jutes,  4 ;  landing  of  Augustine,  19. 
Theatre,  The,  235. 
Theatres,  The,  119-121  ;  the  companies, 

121  ;  decline  of  the  stage,  151. 
Theobald,  Lewis,  The  Dunciad,  258. 
Theocritus,  influence  on  Spenser,  102. 
There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood,  308. 
Thistle  and  the  Rose,  The,  86. 
Thomson,  James,   mentioned,   256,   304, 
316  ;   account  of,  264,  265;     The  Sea- 
sons, 264,  265;    The   Castle  of  Indo- 
lence, 265. 
Thy r sis,  411,459. 
Timbuctoo,  444. 
Times,  The,  431. 
Tintagel,  map,  465,  Be. 
Tintern  Abbey,  map,  465,  Cc. 
Tintern  Abbey,  Lines  on,  320,  324,  327. 
Tiny  Tim,  in  Christmas  Carol,  421. 
Titmarsh,  Michael  Angelo,  pen-name  of 

Thackeray,  423. 
Tito  Melema,  in  Romola,  427. 
To  a  Mountain  Daisy,  311. 
To  a  Mouse,  311. 
To  a  Nightingale,  367. 
To  Psyche,  367. 
To  the  Queen,  448. 
Tom  Jones,  277,  424. 
TotteVs  Miscellany,  98. 
Tourneur,  Cyril,  151. 
Towneley  miracle  plays,  111. 
Toxophilus,  92 ;  quotation,  93,  94. 
Tractate  on  Education,  Milton's,  186. 
Tragedies  of  Shakespeare,  The,  374. 
Tragedy,  the  first,  116. 
Tragical  History  of  Doctor  Faustus,  The, 

126. 
Translations  :  Ovid,  Vergil,  86  ;  Seneca, 
116  ;  The  Bible,  56,  58,  90,  91;  Psalms 
(Wither),  202  ;  ^neid,  97;   Dryden's, 
220 ;  Homer,   Drydeu's,   220  ;    Pope's, 


482 


INDEX 


255,  25C  ;  Juvenal,  Persids,  220  ;  Wal- 
leustiin.  323 ;  Goetz  von  Berliekingen, 
337;  WUhelmMeUter,2ffl;  Rubaiyat, 
45'J. 

Traveller,  The,  29G. 

Traveller's  Song,  The,  9. 

Treasure  Island,  430. 

Trelawney,  E.  J.,  3C2. 

Trent  River,  map,  465,  Db. 

Trevelyan,  G.  0.,  391,  393. 

Trial  of  Treasure,  The,  112. 

Tristram  Shandy,  278. 

Trivia,  Gay's,  264. 

Troilus  anil  Criseyde,  Chaucer's,  C8,  266. 

Trojan  War,  stories  of,  44. 

Trollope,  Anthony,  428,  429. 

Trouveres,  The,  43,  44,  48. 

True  Tragedy  of  Richard,  Duke  of  York, 
The,  118. 

Tulliver,  Maggie,  in  Mill  on  the  Floss, 
427. 

Tulliver,  Tom,  in  Mill  on  the  Floss,  427. 

Tuubridge  Wells,  map,  465,  Ec. 

Turk's  Head  Tavern,  289. 

Turner,  J.  M.  W.,  403,  404. 

Twa  Corbies,  The,  88. 

Tweed  River,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Twickenham:    Bacon,   171;    Pope,  256: 
map,  465,  Dc. 

Two  Children  in  the  Wood,  The,  88. 

Two  Noble  Families  of  York  and  Lan 
caster,  Hall's,  117. 

Two  Noble  Kinsmen,  150. 

Twyford,  map,  465,  Dc. 

Ttndale,  William,   mentioned,   89,  92; 
account  of,  90. 

Tyndall,  John,  442. 

Tynemouth,  map,  465,  Da. 

Udall,  Nicholas,  115. 

Udolpho,  Mysteries  of,  334,  414. 

Ullswater,  map,  465,  Ca. 

Uncle  Toby,  in  Tristram  Shandy,  279. 

Uncommercial  Traveller,  The,  420. 

V a  fortunate  Traveller,  Nash's,  126. 

Universal  Prayer,  Pope's,  259. 

Unto  this  last,  405. 

Upon  His  Majesty's  Happy  Return,  200. 

1'riuh  Ht-ep,  in  David  Copperfield,  421. 

I  ,  n  Burial,  178. 

Utopia,  89,  90,  174,  244. 

Vanity  Fair,  422,  423,  424,  425. 
Vathek,  333. 

Vauohan,  Henry,  201,  202. 
Vereelli  Honk,  The,  26,  27. 
Vergil,  translated  by  Gavin  Douglas,  86; 
translated   by   Dryden,  220;   influence 
"ii  Spenser,  102. 
Verse,  priority  over  prose,  29. 
Virur  of  Wakefield,    The,  279,  293,  296, 

4211. 
Victoria,  431. 
Victorian  age,  The,  389, 392,  417,  432, 442  ; 

minor  poets  of  the,  459,  460. 
Victorian  poets,  The-,  111.  i::l-4G0. 
Victorian  Poets,  Stedman's,  445. 
View  of  the  Pies' nt  Stair  of  Inland,  103. 


Villette,  425. 

Vindication  of  Natural  Society,  Burke's, 

301. 
Virginians,  The,  425. 
Vision  of  Don  Roderick,  The,  337. 
Vision  of  Sudden  Death,  The,  384. 
Vivian,  Sir  Walter,  in  The  Princess,  445. 
Vivian  Grey,  416. 
Vivien,  449. 
Volpone,  148. 
Vox  Clamantis,  69. 

Wace,  48,  49. 

Wakefield,  map,  465,  Db. 

Walilhere,  28. 

Wallenstein,  Coleridge's  translation  of, 

323. 
Waller,  Edmund,  206;  mentioned,  250. 
Walpole,  Horace,  333. 
Walsiugham,  map,  465,  Eb. 
Waltham  Abbey,  map,  465,  Ec. 
Walton,  I zaak,  mentioned,  200;  account 

of,  215. 
Wanderer,  The,  27. 
Wantage,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Warden,  The,  428. 
Ware,  map,  465,  Ec. 
Waring,  433. 

Warkworth  Castle,  map,  465,  Da. 
Warwick,  map,  465,  Do. 
Warwick  Castle  :  festivities,  117;  Shake- 
speare, 131. 
Wat  Tyler,  332. 
Watchman,  The,  319. 
Watling  Street,  map,  7,  Be  to  Cd. 
Waverley,  338,  354. 
Waverley,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Wearmouth,  birthplace  of  Bede,  29. 
Webster,  John,  151. 
Weir  of  Hermiston,  430. 
Wellington,  Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke 

of,  448. 
Wells  next  the  Sea,  map,  405,  Eb. 
Welsh,  The,  6. 
Wessex  :  settled  by  Saxons,  5,  6  ;  Alfred's 

kingdom,  32;  literature,  36. 
Westerbury,m«/),  465,  Cc. 
Westward  Ho .'  429. 

Whitby  :  seat  of  Hilda's  community,  20  ; 
Caedmon,  21  ;  ravaged  by  the  Danes,  31 ; 
map,  7,  Cb  ;  465,  Da. 
While  Doe  of  Rylslone,  The,  322. 
Why  Come  ye  not  to  Courte  f  87. 
WMkirk  miracle  plays,  111. 
Widsith,  9,  10,  27. 

Wife  of  Bath's  Tale,  Dryden's,  220. 
Wight,  Isle  of,  map,  465,  Dc. 
Wiglaf,  in  Beowulf,  13,  14. 
Wuhelm  Meister,  Carlyle's  translation  of, 

397. 
William  of  Normandy,  6 ;  invades  Eng- 
land, 41,  42, 
Will's  Coffee-HouBe,  220,230,  231,  250, 

289. 
Wilson,    John,   "  Christopher    North," 

mentioned,  381,  387,  444. 
Wilton:  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  99;  map,  465, 
Dc. 


INDEX 


483 


Winchester,  a  Roman  town,  3  ;  Alfred's 

capital,  34 ;   annals,  27  ;  map,  7,  Cd ; 

465,  Dc. 
Windermere,  map,  465,  Ca. 
Windsor  :  James  I.,  86  ;  Earl  of  Surrey, 

97  ;    Pope,   250 ;    Gray,   305  ;   Shelley, 

360  ;  map,  465,  Dc. 
Windsor  Forest,  251. 
Winestead,  map,  465,  Db. 
Wisdom  for  a  Man's  Self,  Of,  Bacon's, 

174. 
Witch  of  Atlas,  The,  361. 
Witches,  and  Other  Night  Fears,  370. 
Wither,  George,  202. 
Wit's  Treasury,  The,  139. 
Wolfram  von  Eschenbach,  47. 
Wonders  of  the    World,    The,   facsimile 

illustration,  51. 
Woodstock,  339  ;  map,  465,  Dc. 
Worcester,   a   Roman  town,  3 ;   map,  7, 

Be  ;  465,  Cb. 
Wordsworth,   William,   mentioned,  19, 

86,   332,   360,   366,   373,   375,  381,  383, 

387,  395,   408,  431,   446  ;  quoted,  141 ; 

account     of,    316-328  j     youth,     317  ; 

French  Revolution,  317;  France,  318; 


depression  and  recovery,  318 ;  Dorothy 
Wordsworth,  318;  Coleridge,  319;   ly- 
rical ballads,    320 ;  Germany,  320  ;   at 
Grasmere,  321  ;  theory  of  verse,  321 
marriage,  321 ;  Sonnets  and  Odes,  321 
The  Excursion,  322  ;  poet-laureate,  322 
death,  322;  obligation    to   Burns,  324 
poetic  ideal,  324;  material,  325  ;  nature, 
326 ;  study,  328. 

World  and  the  Child,  The,  112. 

Wtatt,  Sir  Thomas,  mentioned,  89,  94, 
97-99  ;  account  of,  94-96. 

Wyclif,  John,  mentioned,  42,  54, 62,  69, 
83,  90,  91 ;  account  of,  56-58. 

Yeast,  429. 

Yelloivplush  Papers,  The,  423,  431. 

York,  a  Roman  town,  3  ;  monastic  school, 
31  ;  miracle  plays,  111 ;  map,  7,  Cc  ; 
465,  Db. 

Yorkshire,  Danish  place-names,  37. 

Young,  Edward,  mentioned,  237  ;  ac- 
count of,  264. 

Zanoni,  416. 
Zschokke,  334. 


@Ebe  Ritocwibe  prcsjtf 

BUotrotyped  and  printed by  If.  O.  Houghton  &•  C>>. 
Cambridge,  Mast.,  U.  S.  A. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  DUEtm  the  last  date  stamped  below 


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0 


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MAIN 

|8L  Dtrr^gfti 


DEC  18  1964 


A.Jw 


P.M. 


ie','^JQ(.11|19|l|2^|4l5l6 

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Los  a  ngi 


University  o)  California,  Los  Angeles 


L  005  830  281   1 


A  A      000  293  692    o 


